Darkness Visible
by notmanos
Summary: Movieverse Logan Angel t.v. series crossover: Logan's attempt to recover his memories goes horribly wrong, as a telepathic suggestion by Shrike has unleashed the beast and Wolfram & Hart is waiting for him. Angel is forced to try & stop him if he can
1. Part 1

Disclaimer:The characters of Angel are owned by 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy;the character of Wolverine is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics.No copyright infringement intended. 

N.B.: Takes place shortly after the "X Men" movie and during "Angel" season two. Follows D&A.  
Apologies to William Styron for nicking his great title. (Off a great book. Read it.) 

    Darkness Visible 

    1 

    It was an odd sensation,and one he could not immediately reconcile. 

He felt detached from himself,a passenger in his own body,gazing out the distant windows of his own eyes as he moved through the dark maze of corridors,senses hyper alert and yet muffled somehow;filtering into his consciousness as if through a thick and smothering gauze. 

He heard the footsteps ahead and paused,flattening himself against the wall as he waited beside the door for them to come in,an inexplicable anger suddenly filling him as his thoughts took on a strange,almost hallucinatory quality:"They-can't-kill-me-they-can't-keep-me-they-can't-change me-they-can't-kill-me-no-one-can-kill-me-they're-all-going-to-die". 

The silver door slid open with a pneumatic gasp,and two of Them came through,weapons held at the ready,and the one closest to him saw him out of the corner of his eye.But before he could even take a breath to tell his buddy,Wolverine lashed out with his claws,slicing both his automatic rifle and his throat in half.As he fell aside,trying to scream but unable to make anything more than a wet gurgling noise as blood gushed from the gash in his neck,Wolverine kicked out and got the second man hard in the gut,doubling him over and sending him stumbling back.Before he could straighten up and use his weapon,Wolverine stabbed his claws in the young man's abdomen and ripped upwards,disemboweling him instantaneously.The man had time to look down at his own intestines as they fell out onto the shiny silver metal floor,and then glanced up at Wolverine's smiling face before his eyes rolled up inside his head and he fell backwards,dead before the rest of his body hit the floor. 

An alarm screamed through the complex,wailing like a banshee and bouncing off the metal walls at every conceivable point,but the deafening noise only made Wolverine's grin insanely wide as he continued forward,assured of encountering far more guards before he got out of here.That was just what he wanted. 

His hate was pure,a white hot light that filled his veins and made him inexplicably whole;everything suddenly made sense,and he felt good.He was a supernova of rage,and it was ecstasy.He never wanted to stop feeling like this.There was no reason here,no pity,no mercy...no pain.He knew only two things,and they were enough:he was Wolverine;and everyone who got in his way was going to die. 

He swiped an electrical box as he passed it,sparks shooting from it and burning his skin, electricity tingling down his claws and through his metal skeleton briefly before the overhead lights died as violently as the men he'd left behind him,with only strips of yellow emergency lights illuminating the way.But he didn't need those lights.Even through the gauze of his perceptions,the rage inside him seemed to light his way,bringing the scents of people to him as they quickly assembled for attack,and Wolverine began to laugh,stopping in his tracks and waiting for them to amass behind the chrome door ahead.Ah,the stupid fucks thought they could take him.He was willing to let them try-it was the last dumb ass mistake any of them would ever make. 

As soon as his patience reached its limit he charged ahead,not even bothering to open the door.Since it was simply steel with a miniscule amount of adamantium coating,he easily tore it open with his claws,and the dozen men,not expecting that kind of entrance,were surprised and thrown briefly off whatever game plan they had. 

They swarmed him en masse like angry ants,and he swatted them down just as easily.He laughed again as his claws tore through their fragile flesh,their warm blood splattering his face,every blow or bullet they managed to land only succeeding in making Wolverine angrier and that much happier.He wanted them to bring it on;he wanted more. 

He wasn't leaving this place until it was ankle deep in blood. 

Logan awoke with a gasp,his stomach twisting with nausea as he tried to shake the lingering, gleeful feeling of the nightmare. 

Assuming it was a nightmare.He was no longer sure. 

He sat up in bed,not at all reassured by the sunlight streaming in through a gap in the loosely pulled curtains.This had to be lingering false memories planted by Shrike,right?They had to be-that bastard enjoyed fucking with his mind,making him believe he was a cold blooded killer.Not that he hadn't ever had the urge...but he controlled it.And he was certainly not some sort of cheerfully psychotic killer who reveled in the misery of others.That sounded like Shrike,or the men he worked for. 

But what a weird detail for Shrike to add:the idea of pain stopping if he killed.What pain?Trying to recall the nightmare/implanted memory/whatever the hell,he didn't remember if the so called pain even existed.In fact,the more he tried to recall what happened,the more evanescent the 'memory' seemed to become,falling through his fingers like sand.Just like every other memory he had. 

He forced himself to stop thinking about the bullshit Shrike must have planted in his mind,as it would only serve whatever sick purpose he had.He wished he could ask Naomi or Scorpion if they had any lingering or 'new' false memories,but Scorpion was long gone,and Naomi-Electra-was newly gone.And he knew he should get gone too;he'd been too long in the wasteland of the Hyperion Hotel,and he wasn't sure why. 

Well,Electra.But she was no longer here,and he had no reason to stay. 

Except the Brit,Wesley,he had had his mind taken over by Shrike briefly,at least long enough for him to turn the rifle he was carrying on Logan and put a bowling ball sized hole in his right lung.Was he having any after effects?Or would he not simply because he was only controlled,and Shrike never fucked with his memories?He thought about asking,but honestly he couldn't.If Wesley brought it up as he was leaving,fine,but if not,no matter. 

He showered and got dressed,weighing the odds of Shrike still being alive.He did have an extraordinarily rapid healing ability,just like him,except Logan seemed to heal at about five hundred times the rate Shrike had,which is why Logan became 'their chosen' (or whatever the hell he said-Shrike was a fucking loon) and Shrike had been passed over and-in his mind-cast aside like so much garbage.Which is why he hated him as much as he did,because Shrike,for some stupid ass reason,wanted to be their guinea pig.Who in their right mind wanted to volunteer to be flayed alive and mutilated? 

But that was it:Shrike wasn't in his right mind.He wasn't sure he was in his mind at all.He'd been brainwashed and mindfucked into a parody of himself-a 'Stepford Shrike'.And while Logan knew he'd been mindfucked too-Shrike told him as much-at least they only took his memories away.As bad as it was,at least they didn't strip mine his personality or his mind like they did Shrike. 

And he had to be dead;Electra fried him like a chicken.Virtually his only recollection of Angel dragging him through the front hallway was the stomach churning stink of Shrike's burnt flesh.Logan had serious doubts he'd ever survive an Electra blast at half power;at full power,Shrike had no goddamn hope at all.It really didn't pay to piss off the wrong woman. 

But as he left his more or less regular room in the Hyperion (he had been here too goddamn long),he wondered how he knew they didn't fuck with his head as badly as they had Shrike.Maybe it just didn't take...or take for long... 

"Logan,good,I was hoping to speak with you,"Wesley's voice said as Logan came down the stairs and entered the front lobby. 

He shook off his dark thoughts and noticed the Englishman behind the front desk,perusing the usual huge old tomes he always seemed to be perusing in one form or another.Logan wondered if that was Wesley's mutant ability:the ability to read thick,smelly old books without sneezing.The idea was briefly amusing."Look,I've already told you stop apologizing,"Logan warned him,not in the mood for it.Wesley had been apologizing incessantly since he shot him under Shrike's mind control,and it was starting to piss him off. 

"I'm not going to apologize,unless you'd like me to,"he replied.At Logan's evil look,he went on,straightening his perfectly straight wire rimmed glasses,his blue eyes only occasionally meeting his. He seemed to prefer the general safety of the staircase visible over Logan's shoulder."There's a woman who owes me a favor,named Icara,and I think she can help you regain your memories." 

Logan shifted his small rucksack to his left shoulder,and said,"How do you figure?She a hypnotist?" 

"No,she's a Kassendar demon.They're telepathic,and highly sensitive to psychic...well, wavelengths,if you will.She should be able to sense any false,implanted psychic memories and remove them." 

Logan shook his head,frowning at the idea."I've had enough people fucking with my head lately. Thanks but no thanks." 

"But they are bothering you,"Wesley replied,and Logan did a slight double take. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"He snapped anxiously,wondering if he made some noise while he dreamed/remembered/whatever the hell he did. 

Wesley looked puzzled."Aren't they?I thought they were.I'm still bothered by the fact that he somehow controlled me,even if it was only for a minute.It's all rather embarrassing,you know." 

"I wouldn't know.He never controlled me."As soon as that was out of his mouth,he regretted it:it sounded like he was blaming him for 'allowing' Shrike to take him over. 

Wesley looked down at his big book,clearly ashamed.Obviously,he'd been blaming himself,even though he of all people had to know there was nothing he could do to stop him.Logan wanted to apologize,he really did,but he found himself at a loss for words.He finally forced himself to say,"I didn't mean it like that." 

"I know,"he replied automatically.Either he honestly didn't believe him,or he didn't care,because he felt bad enough about it as it was. 

With a heavy sigh,Logan went up to the front desk,and said,"Icara,huh?Where is she?" 

Wesley picked up a small piece of paper and handed it to him,finally daring to look up at him once more."She has a place just off Mulholland Drive.She camouflages it well,so don't be surprised if you don't find it at first." 

"Camouflages it?What's she hiding from?" 

"The world.As I said,Kassendar demons are highly sensitive.The world-our world-is often overwhelming for them." 

Logan kept several sarcastic demon comments to himself.He wasn't sure he completely bought it,but whatever-it seemed to make Angel,Wesley,and Cordelia happy if he just went along with it.  
Not that he cared if they were happy,he was just bored with the arguments. 

He stared at the scrap of yellow paper,with Wesley's achingly neat,precise handwriting on it,and wondered what he had to lose.He did want to know what had happened to him,where his memories had gone and what they were.And if they ever did the things to him that they had done to Shrike. 

But did he want someone-some stranger;some 'thing'-in his head?Too many people had rooted around in there like it was some sort of gold depository. 

Perhaps taking his hesitancy for doubt,Wesley said,"I can vouch for her.She's one of the good guys.And her kind is gentle;she would never try to harm you in any fashion." 

"She can try all she wants,but she won't do it,"he replied,shoving the paper in the front pocket of his jeans."Maybe I'll stop by on way." 

"On your way where?" 

"Out of here,"Logan said,turning and walking away towards the front doors of the Hyperion.The sunlight streaming through the glass seemed unnaturally bright,so much so that he had to squint until his eyes adjusted.Once outside the heat seemed to slam up against him like a physical entity,radiating from the ground and permeating the still,smog choked air;he felt like he had stepped into an oven. 

He hated the cold more than anything,but Los Angeles was starting to make him hate the heat as well.He never thought of himself as a man happy with tepid,yet what was left? 

He shook his head at his own thoughts as he straddled his motorcycle.He was turning into a curmudgeonly old man:from here on out it was a downhill slide towards shuffleboard and loud pants pulled up to his armpits. 

Logan figured if he wasn't dead by then,he'd kill himself. 

    2 

    Icara lived in a quaint little bungalow style house that seemed to exist inside a heat shimmer.When he was able to see it,it was obliquely,not looking directly at it,and even then the image wavered like a cheap,failing hologram.He wasn't sure it really existed until he went up to the house,and within five feet of it he seemed to pass through an invisible field that made the hair on his arms and neck stand on end,and suddenly he found himself on the tiny,barren porch. 

Well,that was weird. 

He knocked on the whitewashed wooden door,feeling both foolish and suspicious,and after a moment he heard stirring inside and tensed,ready for anything. 

There was a scrape of locks being undone,and the door opened a crack,a single cloudy blue eye looking out at him from the gap."Who are you and what do you want?"A man's hushed,slightly cracked voice asked. 

Hadn't he said Icara was a her?Could he be at the wrong place?"I'm here to see Icara.Wesley sent me." 

"Wesley?"The man repeated,sounding skeptical."Wesley Wyndham-Price?" 

Logan shrugged."Yeah.He said she could help me."Actually,he couldn't remember Wesley's last name,although he thought he had two of them,and they sounded so pretentious and stereotypically British the very sound of them brought to mind sipping tea and colonizing tiny countries. 

The eye studied him warily,seemingly sizing him up,and then the door opened wide.He found himself face to face with a slender knife blade of a man with slicked back black hair and wide,staring blue eyes that didn't look right somehow,although he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong with them.He was wearing clothes so dark and pseudo-formal,Logan thought he might be a butler,but he didn't give off a 'servant' vibe.Maybe he was her weird ass son or something. "This way,please,"he said,sounding annoyed,and headed down the hall without bothering to see if Logan was following.Logan did,of course,if only out of a sense of morbid curiosity.Also,he'd gone this far;there was no sense in copping out now. 

Entering the house was like entering a tomb:it was cool,and,beyond the well lit foyer,it suddenly became dark and gloomy,shadows painting the walls and pooling on the floor like oil.There was an odd smell too;leather and aged paper,a smell like damp cotton,and a dry,faint spice scent,like old cinnamon or some sort of tree bark.He sincerely hoped it didn't belong to a person. 

Lurch Junior led him into the dark parlor,which was lit solely by multicolored candles that lined the room.There were maybe three dozen tapers in all,on every shelf and flat surface,while the front window was drowned by heavy blue velvet drapes that didn't let any sunlight escape,not even at its edges.It smelled heavily of burned carbon and wax,and dust from the musty books lining a pair of bookcases.So much so that it took him a moment to realize there was someone else in the room. 

After sneezing several times,he saw what he assumed was a pile of scarves on the lumpy blue sofa move. It got to its feet (?) and rose to a height of five feet at best,and he felt eyes,although he didn't see them."You are a friend of Wesley's?"It was a female voice,as light as air,and seemed to drift from the heap of hovering cloth. 

Of course it was a person,hidden in an enveloping shroud of gauzy,dark veils.His first thought was she was fanatically Muslim or something,but when her hands emerged briefly from the panels of lightweight cloth,he noticed they were gloved,and he suddenly wondered if maybe she was allergic to sunlight or something.He'd heard of such things,even if he'd never encountered it before,and even Angel had an aversion to daylight (he doubted he'd 'burst into flame',like he claimed...but admittedly,he had started smoking that one time,which was really weird.It smelled like smoldering flesh too,but maybe it was some kind of trick...).Of course,judging from the candles,maybe it wasn't just daylight-maybe it was all bright lights. 

And she didn't smell human either;neither did the tall glass of poison standing off to his right, frowning at Logan as he continued to size him up."I wouldn't say friend,exactly,"Logan said,with a diffident shrug. 

"Shall I toss him out?"Lurch asked her. 

The small tower of veils seemed to sway,as if caught in a sudden but undetectable breeze.  
"No,Armand,you may leave us." 

Lurch,a/k/a Armand,continued to frown violently at him,but Logan raised an eyebrow and shot him a small,superior smirk as he left the parlor.Like Armand could have really tossed him out.Maybe with a catapult and the entire Australian Army,but short of that,no fucking way. 

As soon as he was out of earshot,she said,her voice as frail as a crust of ice on the snow,"You've been violated." 

He snapped his head back violently,staring at the veils where he assumed her face would be. "What?" 

"I can feel it from here;your mind is clouded with shadows.Shadows that don't feel like yours,"she said.Icara's voice remained hushed,and he decided it was her normal voice;a ghostly whisper like a voice from another room."Come sit,Logan." 

"How-"he stopped himself from finishing the question,as it was obvious how she knew.If she knew someone had fucked with his brain,she'd know his name. 

He perched self consciously on the edge of a chair little more than an arm's reach across from the sofa,where she sat back down and rested her hands primly on what he assumed were her knees.It was amazing how utterly shapeless she was beneath the veils. 

"I think false memories were implanted too,"he admitted,not really knowing where to start."I was pretty sure they'd fall away when my real memories surfaced,but I don't know anymore." 

"How were the memories implanted?" 

"He was a telepath,a pretty powerful one,I guess.But I don't know what they did to erase the rest of my memories." 

"They have not been erased;they have been buried,hidden,blocked,but they are still there.  
Sometimes they surface,yes?" 

He had to repress a sudden shudder.Did he really want to know,honestly?If he did remember everything,could he handle it? 

What if being vivisected alive wasn't the worst of what had happened to him? 

No.He had to know what happened to him,and what they had done to him,no matter what.His mind would never be whole until he knew everything that had occurred."Yes." 

She paused."They are not pleasant." 

He snorted an aborted,sarcastic laugh."That's an understatement." 

The veils seemed to bob (he guessed she was nodding),and she held up her hands,palms towards him."I need you to relax.Do not fight me;I need to see into your mind." 

He closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm,even as he thought he felt...something,like fingertips brushing over the surface of his mind,and his first,instinctive reaction was to lash out.That seemed to be his first instinctive response to everything. 

Suddenly he felt something stab through his brain like a knife,violent enough to make him grab his head and swallow back a cry of pain as Icara herself screamed,a horrible,high pitched sound of pain as he fought back a wave of dizziness that threatened to swamp his consciousness.He opened his eyes in time to see Icara pitch forward and collapse in a heap on the floor. 

Armand rushed in and knelt down beside her,picking up her frail frame in his arms."Icara?"He asked,visibly distressed."Mistress?" 

Logan stared at them,feeling strangely disconnected from himself.What the hell had just happened? 

Armand looked at him,murder in his glare."Get out of here." 

"What happened?I don't understand-" 

"Leave,now!"Armand roared,rage coloring his pale face."Do you want to kill her?!" 

Logan stared back,part of him reacting in anger as the rest of him felt sick and bewildered.He hadn't the slightest idea what had happened,but he somehow knew something in him had just tried to kill Icara.And may have succeeded. 

Logan ran out of the house,genuinely terrified for the first time in what felt like an eternity. 

Shrike was right:he had been made to kill. 

It was all he was good for. 

    3 

Vancouver,British Columbia,Canada-1969 

    Angel could smell the fear in its blood as he cornered it,and while disgusted by his own feeling of triumph,he eagerly snatched up his prey and sank his fangs into it. The plump black rat,which squealed and raked its claws desperately against his face,tearing his skin as he drained it of its blood. 

On one level,he remained disgusted that he was drinking rat's blood,but he hadn't eaten for so long.The warm blood gushed down his throat and brought on a feeling of near ecstasy;god,he was so hungry. 

He leaned against the brick wall of the dead end alley and sighed in fulfillment as he tossed the empty rat aside,wondering where another one might be.He should probably head for the docks;he had learned that piers always had a ton of rats,both human and animal.But he was new to the city and he wasn't sure exactly where they were.Still,all he had to do was follow the salt smell of the ocean.Right now it was just a faint undertone of saline beneath the scent of garbage,car exhaust,and humans...the smell of people and the blood rushing beneath thin layers of skin... 

He shook off the thoughts and wiped the blood from his mouth as the claw marks on his face healed,and he morphed back into his human visage.No matter how hungry he was-and no matter how despicable humans generally were-he couldn't feed off of them.He couldn't live with the extra guilt,even if they deserved worse. 

As he made his way to the mouth of the alley,past the overflowing garbage cans that Angel knew would attract the rats,he peered out warily at the pedestrians sauntering down the sidewalk tonight,few of them noticing him enough to look back with an equal amount of paranoia. 

He heard the screech of a car coming around the corner way too fast,and as he emerged from the alley,he heard a woman scream,and saw the speeding red coupe crash into a man at the crosswalk,sending him flying twenty feet before he landed in a crumpled,broken heap in the center of the street. 

The red car didn't even stop;it simply swerved around the body and sped onward,although a car pulled out from the curb and accelerated after it,presumably in chase,while other cars stopped and people gathered around the body.As he wandered down the sidewalk,he heard people asking if there was a doctor around while others suggested ways to help the man as yet another reported they had called the cops.Angel glanced at the gathering,bitterly amused at the futility of it all.The guy was dead.No human could survive being hit by a car going at least a hundred miles an hour,nonetheless survive being tossed like a bag of garbage.Besides,it wasn't like any of them actually cared;people sometimes pretended to care,but they never meant it.He had learned that the hard way. 

Angel turned away,only to have his attention caught once again by a woman's gasp from the small circle of so called 'concerned' bystanders around Mister Skidmark,another woman suggesting that someone remain still. 

"I'm fine,"he heard a man's voice,and to more startled gasps,the man hit and presumably killed by the car stood up.People continued to advise him to stay still,to not get up,but the man wiped blood from his face with the sleeve of his leather jacket...revealing no lacerations at all. 

Angel stared at the man.He looked young-late twenties?Early thirties?-good looking for a human,with high cheekbones and intense bluish green eyes,framed by stylish but unstyled dark brown hair.But Angel knew he wasn't human-no human could get up and walk away from a high velocity impact like that. 

Sirens were approaching and growing louder,making the young man (or whatever he was-Belial demon?) seemingly nervous as he pushed through the shocked crowd,stepping up on the sidewalk across the street and all but running on previously broken legs as he disappeared around the corner. 

The people continued to mill around,beyond shock,and Angel had to fight back the urge to yell at them that demons existed and they'd just have to deal with.He did,and moved on himself,before the police and unnecessary ambulance arrived.He had a dock to find. 

Angel woke up,disoriented and slightly confused.The walls around him confirmed he was in the Hyperion,and he knew then where and when he was,but why did he suddenly remember that? 

He sat up,still groggy,the answer suddenly obvious and crystal clear.That was Logan,wasn't it? 

Logan,pre-'Wolverine',before they (whoever they were-government of some sort,according to Logan) did whatever it was they did to him.He tried to imagine him without facial hair,without the sideburns and whatever the hell had been done to the hair on his head,trying to match it up with the face of the man hit by the car who survived without a scratch.It could have been. 

It was funny:the faces of people he killed two hundred years ago were achingly clear in his mind,yet the face of the man mowed down thirty two years ago was a blur now that he was awake. 

It was Logan.It didn't matter that he couldn't precisely remember the details of the face;he knew it was.There were mutants who healed fast,but Logan's Lazarus like ability to spontaneously heal from the most devastating injuries made him special even among mutants.And he knew the man's eyes hadn't been blue enough to be Belial demon (overlooking the fact that Belials didn't actually heal fast,either). 

The orange slivers of light seeping from beneath the drawn curtains told him it was sundown,as did the feeling in his bones.After a while,you could sense the waxing and waning of the sun,not just smell it.As he got dressed,he wondered if he should tell Logan about their...well,not encounter.Path crossing was probably more precise. 

But why tell him?He could offer no insight into the man he used to be;he could only tell him he was in Vancouver in the spring of 1969,that his hair hadn't always been like that...and that he hadn't aged a day. 

Crap-how old was he?Angel was sure he couldn't be as old as he was.Could he? 

Well,if anyone should know anything was possible,it was Angel. 

He had guessed Logan was no longer in the hotel by the time he reached the stairs,but he sensed the pall that had filled the lobby like a bad omen even before he glimpsed the frowning Wesley hanging up the phone behind the front desk,a concerned looking Cordelia staring at him from her position beside the coffee machine."Any luck?"She asked,either not noticing Angel yet or not really caring. 

Wesley shook his head,pushing his dislodged glasses up from the bridge of his nose."No,not at all."  
Wes glanced up and saw him."Angel,I'm glad you're awake." 

"What's going on?"He needed coffee before he tackled any problems,but he had a feeling he'd be out of luck as well. 

"Do you want the short version or the long one?"Cordy asked,holding out a mug of coffee towards him.Now he knew it was bad.But he went over to her and took the coffee with a grateful nod. 

"Is there a short version?" 

"Well,not really,"Wesley granted hesitantly. 

Leave it to Cordelia to figure out a way to boil things down to a series of bullet points."Wes sent Logan to a mind reading chick friend of his,in hopes of helping him with his memory problem.Logan goes,and she ends up in a coma,while Logan has done an 'invisible man' and disappeared." 

"In a coma?"Angel repeated."Logan didn't hurt her?" 

"Not intentionally,no,"Wesley said,and Angel knew he was hedging."Armand-her avatar-isn't completely sure what happened.He didn't care for Logan,but he knows he didn't make any hostile moves against her." 

"Her avatar?"Angel repeated. 

"She's a Kassendar demon,"he explained,and Angel nodded in understanding.Kassendars were extremely sensitive,not only to psychic energy but to light as well-any light.So they often operated through 'avatars',Kassendar demon hybrids that were usually a part of the person they were avatars for,as well as part parasitic Chronai demon,who fed off negative psychic energy.It was a combination of cloning and symbiosis that was difficult to explain and unappetizing to watch.And since Angel knew of only one Kassendar demon in the area,he must have been talking about Icara. 

"Does he know if she was able to open Logan's mind at all?"Angel wondered if the force and type of memories had shocked them both so deeply it rendered Icara comatose and sent Logan into hiding. 

Wesley shook his head,running a hand nervously through his short black hair."He doesn't think so.The process had just begun when Icara fell into a coma.Logan seemed stunned,though,and he thought he may have been in pain too,for a moment." 

"In pain?"Angel repeated,starting to feel like a parrot.But all of this felt like something;a pattern he could almost see,but he didn't have enough pieces to even start putting the puzzle together. "Could something have attacked them psychically?" 

"Armand would have sensed another psychic presence-he confirmed there was just him,Logan,and Icara."Wesley grimaced slightly and turned away,back towards the front desk."I was trying to help him,and I've just made things worse." 

"You couldn't have known this would happen,Wesley.Don't blame yourself,"Angel commiserated, feeling bad for everyone involved.It wasn't like they all hadn't been through enough lately. 

"Maybe the kindest thing would have been to erase all his memories,at least of that place," Cordelia said quietly,gaining their attention. 

Angel stared at her,curious."What has he told you?" 

Logan never talked about that 'place'-Alkali Lake-with anyone,although he had had indicated it was something like a torture chamber.But he seemed to be closest to Cordy,whom he thought of as a mutant in spite of her protestations,and Cordy did seem to have a soft spot for Logan,although she was the only one who seemed able to keep him and his voluminous temper in check. 

Cordelia's hazel eyes met his defiantly."I can't tell you.But think of something bad,and then imagine it a thousand times worse." 

"Cordy,it may help us find him." 

"I doubt it." 

Wesley turned back towards her."Are you afraid how he'd react?" 

That was the right tack to take.She harrumphed and crossed her arms over chest,giving Wesley a harsh glare."Oh please,I'm not afraid of him.Logan would never hurt me." 

"Cordelia,please,"Angel interjected,adding,"I hear the nightmares he has.Sometimes he wakes up screaming,did you know that?I can hear it even upstairs.What did they do to him?" 


	2. Part 2

She winced at that information,apparently unaware of it before now.For a minute,she didn't think she'd say,but with a sigh,she relented."If you even hint that you know he'll probably kick your asses.He told me...he told me that when they performed the surgery on him,the one that gave him his claws and metal skeleton...he was conscious.He remembers it,what it felt like..." 

"Good lord,"Wesley gasped,horrified."How is that even possible?" 

"Drugs,"Angel guessed,wishing he was surprised,but he wasn't.People could be extremely creative in their cruelty,and to a certain type of person,Logan's ability to heal may have been seen as a challenge-how much devastation could he recover from?No wonder Logan wanted to kill them all.If he had any sanity left,Angel might do the same thing in his position.Maybe the very idea of revenge was the only thing that kept Logan sane and going for however many days,months,and years he was altered and held captive by his tormentors. 

"Who would do such a thing?" 

Angel had no answer for that. 

But it brought to mind a question that had always bothered him.How had they managed to keep Logan against his will for any length of time?If he wanted to leave,he left;nothing short of pure adamantium walls and a large supply of drugs could keep him somewhere he didn't want to be.  
That was either another puzzle,or an answer he just couldn't interpret yet. 

"I don't see how this helps us figure out where Logan is,"Cordelia pointed out crossly,her eyes narrowing in skepticism. 

"If I were him,I'd never be sober,"Angel said,putting his mug of untouched coffee down on the front desk and grabbing his coat off the rack. 

"Okay,good point.But weren't you always drunk when you were human?"Cordy asked,eyeing him curiously. 

"I was not always drunk,"Angel snapped defensively,shrugging on his duster."I just...I wasn't always drunk."He wasn't ready to admit she had a point.She wasn't there. 

She gave him a skeptical look,but retrieved her own coat from the back of her desk chair. "Okay,fine.Let's assume he's drowning his sorrows somewhere.Where?There's only a million bars in L.A. alone." 

Angel thought about that for a moment,trying to put himself in Logan's shoes and see things from his perspective.On one level it was easy,because he knew what it was like to distrust people and to desire nothing but to be left alone;but on another,he couldn't quite imagine the type of pain and rootlessness he had to live with.Angel couldn't claim he'd never woken up screaming,but he didn't do it on a nightly basis."Somewhere dark,where people generally leave each other alone.He'd want to be anonymous." 

"Anonymous?With that hair?"She said,with a snort of disbelief. 

Just then the door of the Hyperion opened,and Gunn came in,although he stopped as soon as he saw they looked ready to go. 

"We rolling already?" 

Angel simply nodded,letting Wesley and Cordelia lead the way towards the doors. 

"What's the gig?"The young man asked,his bright hazel eyes showing a certain eagerness to fight. 

"We're looking for Logan.We believe he may be hurt,"Wesley explained. 

Gunn held the door open by leaning against it,letting them pass by, and he scoffed in disbelief. "Wolf boy?Shit,why?Even hurt,he can take care of himself better than a squadron of Marines." 

"Wolverine,not wolf boy,"Cordelia corrected him."Believe me,I used to know a werewolf,and the difference is night and day.No pun intended." 

He raised an eyebrow at that,obviously curious,and said,"Ooh,sounds like a story to tell in the car." 

Well,it would kill the time.Maybe by the end of it,they'd know where Logan was hiding. 

    4 

    Logan looked at his watch,and was sure it was wrong. 

He glanced around,not surprised (considering the smell) that he was in a seedy bar,feeling warm from several glasses of bad but high alcohol beer,another of which was sitting on the table before him.Half empty and somewhat warm,the dim,smoke clouded lights made the beer the color of urine.He felt strange and disconnected-not drunk;dazed,like he'd just woken up from an unrestful sleep. 

Where had the last two hours gone? 

He remembered coming here,he remembered the need for alcohol to drown his guilt and hopefully whatever it was in his head that nearly killed that woman (it belatedly occurred to him that that could have happened to Jean. Christ,he had a fucking time bomb in his head);he remembered swilling down the hideous beer,and then...what? 

That feeling of disconnection had not left him,and he remembered staring in the glass of beer,wondering if there was any point to his continued existence since all he seemed to do was cause pain,when...what?He couldn't have blacked out after a beer and a half,no fucking way.Unless it wasn't only beer. 

He glared at the bartender across the haze,wondering if he was working with them,or at least on their payroll.Since Shrike had led him-unsuccessfully-into a trap,he was sure some of their other agents or whatever had been notified that he was in the area,and they had to know,since the base exploded,that he might have escaped. 

The bartender looked like nothing;a normal man of slightly above average height,with thinning black hair,a small pot belly, and a generally doughy physique that suggested he wouldn't honestly last five minutes with any of his customers (meaning he probably had a weapon under the bar-like that would do any good).As Logan got up,he took a good look around at the dozen or so patrons in this pathetic place,the reek of sawdust,old beer,and cigarette smoke stinging his nose like mace,and wondered how many of them were aligned with them.No matter-he could take them all on,and still have an entire night to kill. 

He was so intent on his target as he approached the bar,he didn't notice the big,drunken idiot lurching across the dimly lit place until he slammed right into him. 

The drunk glared at him like the collision was his fault."Watch where you're going,motherfucker!" 

"Why don't you,fuckface?"He shot back,immediately aware that he wanted to fight.It didn't matter who or what,he just wanted to hurt someone. 

The drunk's rheumy grey eyes grew wide,although it was hard to tell if his face was flushed from anger or booze:he smelled like a beer truck had overturned on him."What did you just call me?!"He demanded,balling his hands into fists at his side. 

The guy was tall and thick,an equal split between muscle and fat,and Logan felt himself grinning;kicking this guy's ass would be a breeze.Best of all,he seemed to think he could wipe up the bar with Logan-he obviously thought he was a big bad ass,and from the way people at near by stools and tables got up and moved far away,everyone else did too."Too many syllables?Should I spell it out for you,dipshit?" 

The stupid dick took a telegraphed swing at him that Logan easily ducked as the bartender shouted,"Hey Gary,take it outside!" but Gary was unable to respond,as Logan had just buried his fist in his ample gut. 

All of the air in Gary's lungs seemed to leave him in a beery gust of wind as his eyes bulged from his face and he stumbled back,his ass bumping against a wisely abandoned table."What,Gar?Never had a little adamantium before?"Logan moved in and hit him with an upper cut that instantly broke his jaw with a crack as loud as a gunshot,and the drunk's eyes rolled up inside his head as he fell off the table and hit the floor like the tub of lard he was. 

He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye,so Logan was not surprised to feel a beer bottle slam into the back of his skull,but it shattered instantly and Logan hardly felt it at all.He turned to face the bastard who did it with a leering grin,the adrenaline rush of anger making him feel almost high;he was giddy with rage,and it felt like ecstasy."Is that all you got,little man?"He asked,before slamming his forehead into his.There was a satisfying thunk,so hollow Logan wondered if the man had a brain at all,and he went down hard as some other chump came in swinging a wooden chair. 

He didn't bother to reveal his claws;he didn't need to.Logan simply grabbed the chair and yanked it out of the man's hands,bringing it down on his raised knee and instantly smashing it into kindling,throwing wood bits aside as he approached the young man menacingly."Where's your cajones,boy?Afraid to take me on without a weapon?" 

There was the familiar click of a gun being cocked,and he looked up to see the bartender was aiming a rather large handgun-a Magnum,if he wasn't mistaken-at him,and the boy took advantage of the momentary distraction by running out of the bar.Probably the smartest thing he had ever done."I thought I said take it outside,"the bartender said,trying to sound tough,but there was a tremor in his voice,and as Logan neared the bar he could smell the stink of fear overwhelming the man's cheap aftershave. 

The man's hands shook slightly,but he kept the long,gaping barrel of the gun trained on Logan as  he reached the bar."That's far enough,"the bartender said,the tremble in his voice more pronounced as he stepped back as far as the narrow area behind the bar would allow him to. 

Logan laughed,the feeling of disconnection and ecstatic rush colliding inside him,making him feel stranger than he had ever felt;he wasn't honestly sure if it was good or bad."Come on,bub,shoot me!You won't kill me,although sometimes I wish pricks like you would.But I can't die.I'll live longer than you,your snot nosed brats,and their snot nosed brats.I'll live until the fucking sun explodes and swallows the goddamn Earth."He lashed out then,popping his claws and slicing the gun in half. The man gasped in horror and tried to back away,but he hit the shelves behind him. 

Logan vaulted over the bar,and stared at the cowering man,who seemed rapt in terror,staring at his claws."Do you really think your puny little gun could scare me?Do you think anything can scare me?I'm the most dangerous man on this entire fucked up planet,because I don't give a shit about anything."He felt it coiling inside him,tension and the need for release,his anger steaming in his veins like lava and making him feel incredibly powerful,almost god like.He could almost taste the blood in his mouth;this bastard was going to die,and it tasted so sweet.He felt a nearly orgasmic thrill shoot through his body as he lifted his arm,claws aimed like a spear,and... 

What the fuck was he doing?! 

Logan suddenly snapped back into himself,the disconnection easing as he stared bewildered at his own claws and at the terrified man he had pinned against the wall. Could he blame this on the drugs,if he was drugged?He didn't know anymore;he didn't know anything anymore.What the hell was he doing? 

He was going to kill this man.And,worst of all,he was going to enjoy it. 

Logan retracted his claws."I-I'm sorry,"he stammered,leaping back over the bar. He stared at the broken bodies and furniture scattered upon the sawdust strewn floor as he backed out the door.  
More than ever,he was convinced Shrike had done something to him,but he had no idea what.And he didn't know if it could cured. 

But until he figured it out,he shouldn't be around people. 

    5 

    Angel drove while everyone kept an eye out for Logan's distinctive motorcycle,which necessitated having the top down,much to Cordelia's vocal dislike. 

"You have to aim us straight for the worst part of town,"Cordy complained.Again."If the smell isn't bad enough,there's a very good chance we'll get our heads blown off in a drive by.Thanks very much,Angel.I always wondered what it would be like to have my brains scraped off your upholstery." 

"What do you mean the worst part of town?"Gunn,who was sitting beside her in the back seat,asked."This is my old stomping grounds.The worst part is about two miles East." 

"Gee,I'll write that down,"she shot back,unimpressed and unconvinced."Couldn't Logan have gone somewhere nice to drink his troubles away?" 

"He strikes you as the type we'll find in the Sky Bar or the Viper Room?"Angel asked,casting the barest glance over his shoulder. 

Cordy was quiet for a few long seconds before she admitted,"Well,okay,no." 

Gunn let out a heavy sigh,and said,"This night is going to get long fast.What if he parked his bike out of view?" 

That had occurred to Angel,and frankly it fit Logan's profile.He wasn't the type to duck a fight-in fact,the opposite seemed to be true-but if he didn't want to be found,Cordy was absolutely right;he became the invisible man.And he had a feeling Logan was hiding now,and he couldn't blame him,even though it was better if he holed up with the only people he could trust.Of course,he didn't know if Logan was willing to acknowledge that fact. 

Cordy suddenly cursed very loudly,and he glanced back in time to see her grab her head and lean forward,as Gunn reached out and grabbed her arm. 

"What is it?"Wesley asked,turning around in the passenger seat to look at her."What do you see?" 

"Claws,"she gasped."Angel,turn around.Somebody's being killed two blocks back,in the alley beside that butcher's shop we passed." 

Angel pulled an illegal u-turn in the middle of the street,making a Chevy swerve and blare its horn at him as he hit the gas and sped back to the spot Cordy mentioned while Wesley said,"Claws?Is it Logan?" 

"No,I don't think so,"she said,still panting from the pain."Oh god,Angel,I think we're too late." 

Angel pulled his convertible into the mouth of the alley,throwing the car into park before standing up and jumping over the windshield and onto the hood,letting the headlights show him what was there.Cordelia was right. 

The lights bounced off a dented dumpster,besides which was the body of a man (?) who had been decapitated and eviscerated like a fish,his body appearing to be no more than a pile of shredded, bloody meat beside the pile of his own spilt viscera. 

"Oh god,"Wesley breathed in horror,looking away as Angel jumped off the hood,careful not to step in anything that was left of the man. 

Angel crouched beside the fresh remains,and it was obvious something with big,strong claws had torn him apart like a pinata.Logan could have done this-so could a bear or a tiger,honestly-but he didn't think either was responsible."What did you see exactly,Cordy?You said you saw claws,but what else?What kind of claws?" 

Cordy wisely remained with the car,not wanting to see in person what she saw in her head."It was dark,I don't know...there was some pain,but it was quick..." 

"Yeah,people usually don't live long after losing their head,"Gunn said,coming to crouch beside Angel.He grimaced at the body,and then looked at him."Haven't we seen a guy torn up like this before?About a year ago?" 

Angel didn't have to think long."The Berserker demon." 

"Oh no,not those fugly Alien rejects again,"Cordy groused,daring to raise her head from her hands.She still looked liked she was in pain,and was careful not to glance at the body-or what was left of it."I thought they were like the Unabombers of demonkind." 

Angel glanced at Gunn,who raised his eyebrows and shrugged;he didn't know either.Thankfully, Wesley spared him from having to ask by saying a simple,"What?" 

"You know,crazed,stinky loner types,who don't play well with others,"she elaborated."I didn't think they were much for coming above ground and mixing it up." 

"They will if they want something,"Wesley noted,sounding weary.It was probably the sight of the torn up body,on top of the disappointment the day had thrown at his feet. 

"Or they're pissed off,"Angel interjected,standing up.It disgusted him,but the smell of fresh blood made him feel hungry."This person wasn't human." 

Gunn stood up,studying the remains clinically."How can you tell?" 

"The blood smells different,"he said,ignoring his own thought of 'But it still smells good'."It's bitter.Maybe Belial demon,full or part,or Brachen demon." 

"Brachens are peaceful,"Wesley replied. 

"So are Belials,for the most part,"Angel countered."Usually they have others do their dirty work for them." 

"Like a Berserker?"Gunn suggested,looking at him curiously. 

Angel nodded-a damn good point."This could have been something gone wrong,a deal,a scam." 

"Well,that was a short case,"Cordy noted sarcastically. 

"Not really,"Angel replied,turning back towards the car.There was no real point in sticking around since the Berserker was gone,and this man-well,he thought it was a man-was beyond saving.He considered trying to find some identification on him,but he wasn't really in the mood for sifting through someone's entrails right now."We have another Berserker loose in the city,and that's never a good thing." 

There was a loud roar from the road,and a motorcycle sped by so fast it was not only desperately illegal but seemingly a violation of the law of physics;no more than a momentary blur of velocity and then gone,leaving noise in its wake. 

"Speaking of Berserkers,"Cordy said,turning to see,but the bike was long gone."Was that Logan?" 

"It sounded like it."Angel said,jumping back up onto the hood of the car and climbing back into the driver's seat.Gunn immediately went the saner way,around the car,and jumped into the back seat as Angel threw the car out of park and backed up,out onto the street. 

Realistically,there was no way in hell they'd ever catch up with Logan,but maybe he'd stop somewhere,and then they'd have a chance.And,if not,at least they'd have some idea of where he had gone,and maybe that was better than nothing. 

It would probably have to be. 

    6 

    It usually felt good;the power beneath him,the speed reducing the world around him to a colorful,indistinct blur,the roar of the wind and the engine combining to create a wall of sound that seemed to buffer him from reality.But it wasn't working tonight. 

The anger burned in him like acid,it felt like it was eating him alive,and he wasn't sure where it was coming from,or what it meant,or who he was angry at.Logically,he'd be angry at himself,but for some reason he wasn't,not really.Part of him was,a very small part,but it seemed lost in the disconnect between himself and his body;he was seriously beginning to believe he was no longer himself,literally. 

He could almost feel himself slipping away,clawing against a cliff face as smooth as ice and as hard as neutronium as his personality-what there was of it-slid inexorably downward,toward a chasm of nothingness,and something moved in to take its place.But he didn't know what it was,or who,or why,except it was something Shrike had done,and he couldn't seem to fight against it,not for long. 

Was it possible some part of Shrike had taken up residence in his mind? 

He dismissed the idea as soon as it occurred to him-it was insane,and impossible,especially considering he was dead,burned to a fucking bacony crisp by Electra.But what if he had someone buried a part of himself in his mind...what was a person's mind but the sum of their memories,their experiences...memories that Logan no longer had. 

But Icara said they were still in there somewhere,buried,not erased...and that bastard Shrike had attacked her;the part of Shrike in him had lashed out to protect its domain. 

He had to get it out of him.Before he was lost for good he had to purge the remnants of mad Shrike from his mind,but he didn't even know how or where to start. 

And part of him was afraid it was too late. 

Lost in his own internal battle,Logan became aware of the truck turning onto the road in front of him a little too late,and tried to swerve around it,but drove straight into a tree at the side of the road. 

The last thing he thought,before he lost consciousness in a bright explosion of pain,was maybe he had just solved his problem. 

    Angel was ready to give up and turn back around,start the search for the Berserker demon before he tore up another person like fresh bread,but he knew he'd rather go back and sift through that guy's entrails than fight a Berserker right now.Of his two total encounters with Berserkers,he'd been nearly killed twice,and he didn't know if any of the weapons in his trunk  
would be enough to take one.He tried to console himself with the knowledge that even Buffy would have a hard time with a Berserker,due to their size,muscularity,and all around general bad temper,but that just reminded him Berserkers had killed several Slayers-hell,they'd killed entire villages,and at least one species of demon.If devastation could be personified,the Berserkers (or Berks,as Spike sneeringly called them) had a lock on that title. 

They turned onto yet another winding road lined with greenery and trees,headed towards one of the nicer suburbs of L.A.-Angel knew if he kept on going,they'd hit Laurel Canyon in a few  
minutes-which more or less proved Logan was simply driving,with no conscious thought given to where he was going. 

"Where could he be going?"Wesley asked,echoing Angel's thoughts."Are you sure he went this way?" 

"No,"Angel admitted,with a sheepish shrug."I'm guessing." 

Angel noticed,on the right side of the road ahead of them,a poplar tree snapped in half in the middle of its trunk,its top portion laying partially in the roadway. 

"Do you hear that?"Cordy asked,and he felt her grab the back of his seat and pull herself forward. 

"Hear what?"Gunn repeated. 

But Angel heard it,probably better than Cordy:an engine sputtering,still running but just barely, and the lack of Doppler effect suggested it wasn't moving.In fact,it wasn't too far beyond the tree,was it? 

And then suddenly it hit him-what could snap a tree in half better than a high velocity impact? 

"Oh shit,"Angel cursed,immediately pulling off to the side of the road beside the broken tree. 

"What?"Wesley replied,sounding vaguely alarmed as he began looking around frantically. 

But he heard Cordy gasp,and she jumped out of the car."Logan,"she said,not quite calling out to him.It was more like a combination of a curse and a prayer. 

As soon as Angel killed the engine and stood up,he could see the motorcycle laying more or less on its side,about ten feet away from the tree,partially submerged in a mound of thorny  
blackberry bushes.He could see the back wheel still turning,although slowly,the engine sputtering and refusing to die. 

The front wheel of the bike was warped,violently wrenched from impact,but the bike must have had some of the same metal as Logan did,as it still wasn't enough to keep it from running. 

And as soon as he stepped onto the grass,he smelled the blood. 

Logan was almost twenty five feet further on,thrown much more violently on impact,face down in the grass beneath the overhanging branches of a pine tree,as still as a corpse in its overwhelming shadow.But even this couldn't kill Logan...could it? 

He was the first to reach him,Cordelia close behind, and quickly knelt next to him,turning him over carefully (but in retrospect why did he bother?Logan claimed he couldn't get broken bones,thanks to his metal skeleton).Blood caked his face,as it appeared much of his scalp had been ripped off from his forehead to the top of his skull,although most of it had healed now,and all that remained was a deep,mostly horizontal gash across his brow,through which a glimpse of silver-his adamantium skeleton-could be viewed.Logan's right eye was discolored and starting to swell,while his lower lip was exceedingly bloody although healed over now,but still swollen as if beestung,and his shirt ripped to bloody tatters.He was complete dead weight,as loose limbed as a rag doll,and Angel wondered if Logan could suffer head injuries like any normal,unindestructable being. 

"You stupid idiot,what were you doing driving that fast?"Cordy told him,kneeling on the opposite side of Logan."This is L.A. for Christ's sakes!It's known for smog,bad sitcoms,and even worse traffic."She glanced at Angel,the concern evident in her eyes and the twist of her lips."He's going to be all right,right?" 

Angel shrugged,which made her grimace more violently,so he added,"He usually is."But he didn't even sound convincing to himself. 

"Should we risk taking him to a hospital?"Wesley asked,joining them.He remained standing on the periphery,subtle in his misery.He probably thought this was his fault too. 

Angel didn't consider that for long.Logan's mutation would be as obvious in a hospital setting as his vampirism at sunrise,and Logan had made it clear he wanted to avoid people as much as possible.Besides,with the type and quantity of people after him-and Angel had to assume they were hunting their lost soldier/guinea pig/experiment as much as Logan obviously did-taking him to a hospital might be as good as putting up a huge flashing neon sign reading "Come and get him-he's here and incapacitated". 

The sputter of the engine died as Gunn righted the bike and shut it off,studying the front end damage with a certain awe."Shit,he must have hit that tree like a rocket.How could anyone be in one piece after that?"When Gunn glanced at them and saw the anguish on their faces,especially Cordy's,he quickly added,"I mean normal human.Logan'll be fine-he always is." 

Angel added a mental "I hope so" as he said,"Hide the bike.We'll come back for it later.Right now,I want to get him back to the Hyperion."He stood and hefted the dead weight of Logan,nearly three hundred pounds of it thanks to his supplementary skeleton,and Angel was glad the car wasn't far,or he'd have to do something undignified like drag him.Or worse,ask the others for help. 

"If you die,I'll kill you,"Cordy warned Logan,blinking back tears. 

Angel knew for a fact things like that had happened before. 

    7 

    Cordelia knew something was wrong,but she didn't know what. 

The gash on Logan's head had taken a better part of an hour to close up:impossible for a normal human,extraordinary for Angel,and way below average for Logan by far.The swelling had gone down,the bruises all but disappeared,but he was still out cold,and she was beginning to fear he was actually comatose. 

Angel had put Logan in his first floor room-the room with the curiously missing mirror in the bathroom (if this was Angel's room,she'd know why-he didn't like not seeing his own reflection.But what happened with Logan?Did his hair piss him off one day and he decided he couldn't take it anymore?)-and he been laying in the exact same position Angel had left him in on his bed since then,not even twitching a finger. 

He was on his back,hands positioned at his side in just such a way that he instantly brought to mind one of the dozen or hundred corpses she had seen in her eventful high school life,and that was just not a mental image she needed right now.He was breathing,although slowly,and at least his torn shirt made that fairly easy to see.But he went through the shirts,didn't he?Almost more than Angel,which was saying something.At least Angel seemed prepared for that,and had shirts to spare.But Logan's jeans had earned a few holes from road rash of some variety,but he was just going to have to live with the grunge look for now,as Angel and he were obviously not compatible in that department.Also, Angel was strangely proprietary about his pants. 

For herself more than him,she had decided to clean the dried blood off his face,and dimly hoped the feeling of water would help rouse him.But as she finished wiping the wet washcloth across his newly healed brow,he remained as still and lifeless as the pickled corpse of Lenin (or whatever dead Russian guy) on display in the Kremlin. 

"You can't do this to us,"she told him,getting up and storming to the bathroom,even though he couldn't appreciate it."It's not fair."She tossed the wet and bloody washcloth in the sink,figuring someone else could clean it up later;she had done her part."We busted our asses to help you,and...okay,you saved our asses too,but it doesn't mean you can die on us or turn into some hairy vegetable - "She walked back into the room,continuing her rant,and when she looked back at the bed,she gasped in shock,stopping in her tracks. 

Logan was sitting up,staring at her with hollow eyes. 

"Logan...are you okay?"She asked,relief mixing with annoyance.He could have said something rather than just scare her like that. 

He continued to stare at her with empty,shadowed eyes."That's not my name,"he said coldly, getting up from the bed and watching her like she was little more than an insect. 

"What?Of course that's your name,"she replied,suddenly feeling unnerved and taking a step back as he slowly stalked towards her,holding his hands loosely at his sides.Was he preparing to unleash his claws?Could he have amnesia or something?She always thought soap operas made that up. 

"My name is Wolverine,"he growled."Who are you?What is this place?" 

He wasn't kidding.He was deadly serious,and she was backed up against the wall.There was a chance she could sprint for the door,but he'd catch her before she took three steps. "Logan,you're hurt.Please,I'm on your side.You know me - I'm Cordelia,this is the Hyperion Hotel,you've been here for a while.Think about it.It'll come back to you." 

Logan stopped,just beyond claw's reach,and she hoped he now knew what was going on;otherwise she was in deep shit."Hyperion.Where is that?" 

"Los Angeles."She thought maybe if the knock on the head was still making him this nuts,she could kick him in the groin and escape,but would it actually stop him for a second?He couldn't possibly have adamantium in his crotch,could he?Oh,there was something she never wanted to think about. 

His brow furrowed in thought,and when his cool eyes scoured her face,she felt like she was being sized up as a target.She wondered if this was what a rabbit felt like before the cougar pounced.And that's when it really hit her:this wasn't Logan.There was something different behind his eyes,cold,as calculating and clinical as a robot,save for an obvious,chilling flare of dark, aimless rage."I'm not supposed to be in Los Angeles.Where's Enigma?Vector?" 

"What?What are you talking about?"She asked,trying to keep the fear out of her voice and failing miserably.Normally,she'd be pissed off,but she knew what he could do with those claws.She remembered telling Angel and Wesley earlier that Logan would never hurt her,and wondered if the irony gods were punishing her for her hubris."Where are you supposed to be?" 

He snorted derisively,and pivoted towards the door so suddenly she gasped again,bringing a hand up to her throat as her heart seemed to start running a marathon in her chest.Logan she felt safe with,beyond a doubt.This guy scared the shit out of her."If you needed to know,you wouldn't have to ask,"he grumbled,heading out the door.His voice even sounded slightly different,rougher, filled with lethal rage,but she wasn't sure if that was due to the accident or the sudden shift in his personality. 

Although relieved he was gone-it was nice to breathe again-she realized he had to be headed down to the lobby...where an unsuspecting Angel,Wesley,and Gunn were.Oh Christ;just the idea of it sounded like an accident waiting to happen. 

She trailed after him reluctantly,but darted to the staircase as soon as she heard Wesley exclaim,"Logan.Should you be up?" 

Logan-or Wolverine,or whoever the hell he was-stopped midway down the stairs and glared at the three men gathered around the front desk,telling them exactly what he had told her:"That's not my name." 


	3. Part 3

"Then what's your name?"Gunn shot back flippantly,as if Logan were playing a joke on them. 

"Wolverine.Who the fuck are you guys?"He snarled,keeping his back turned towards the wall as he descended the stairs. 

Cordy looked at them,and shook her head desperately."He's not Logan,"she said,earning curious looks from Wesley behind the desk,and Gunn standing just in front of it. 

But not Angel.Angel,near the lobby's curious circular sofa,started stalking towards Wolverine on an intercept course,his brows drawn down in curious suspicion.Did he already know?Maybe Logan's smell had changed or something. 

"We're your friends,"Angel said carefully,hands tucked in his pants pocket.He was trying to appear casual,and using a low voice,the same kind of tone you might used on a scared dog. 

"I don't have friends,"Wolverine said,pausing at the base of the stairs.She had absolutely no doubt about that."And you don't smell...human." 

"You were in an accident,and you received a serious blow to the head,"Angel said,ignoring the last comment-what could he say? 'I am,but I'm dead and demon possessed?' "I think you need to sit down,and-" 

"I'm out of here,"Wolverine interrupted,heading for the glass doors of the hotel. 

"Logan,please-"Angel said,reaching out to grab his arm. 

It happened so fast not even Angel was prepared for it. 

Logan spun and slammed his left hand into Angel's torso,and Angel let out a strangled gasp as three claws punched through his back."I said I'm outta here,"Wolverine snarled in Angel's face.He then retracted his claws and Angel collapsed to the floor,as Wolverine simply turned and walked out the front door,never even looking back.And why should he?That psycho bastard could take them all,whether they attacked from the front or behind. 

Wesley reached Angel first,helping him sit up as he continued to gasp in pain."That bastard!"Gunn exclaimed angrily,pure murder in his eyes."I'll kill him." 

"No!"Cordelia shouted,getting down the stairs in time to block Gunn's way. 

"What do you mean no?He just skewered Angel-" 

"He will kill you,"she interrupted,scowling at him for his sheer testosterone poisoned male idiocy."I hate to puncture your machismo,but a mental Logan could kill us all at once without breaking a sweat.What do you think you could do to him alone?" 

Gunn glared at her,a muscle in his jaw twitching beneath his dark brown skin,when Wesley interjected,"She's right.For now,just let him go." 

Angel nodded in agreement,blood trickling down his blue shirt and leaving black trails."I'm just glad his claws aren't made of wood,"he gasped,and she could see exactly just what he meant.Wolverine had stabbed him through the heart. 

"How could the accident do this to him?"Wesley,asked,thinking aloud."Did he smell...possessed?" 

"No,"Angel rasped,panting in serious pain."Just angry and...feral.I can't really explain it.Help me get up." 

Wesley and Gunn did just that,hauling Angel to his feet,and he remained pinioned between them as he continued to be unsteady,barely able to remain upright."We need to find Logan and figure out what happened to him before he gets hurts,or hurts someone else."Angel then paused,looking pale-even for him-and added,"After I sit down for a moment." 

Wesley and Gunn helped (dragged) Angel to the couch,where he gratefully collapsed,and Cordy bit her lip,staring at the doors that Logan-or whoever he was-had just exited through. 

You didn't need to be a seer to guess that some bad shit was about to come down.And knowing their luck,it would be right on their heads. 

    Wolverine walked the streets,not knowing where he was going,or what had just happened.He was severely disoriented,the world around him as warped as a funhouse mirror,and he felt disconnected,dizzy,as well as sore,like he'd been hit by a Mack truck.And what the hell had gone on back at that creepy hotel? 

He'd hoped the night air would clear his head,but it was warm and choked with exhaust,and just seemed to make things more muddy.His mind was a blank slate,and he struggled to retrieve memories that seemed to elude him at every turn. 

Maybe he should go back to that hotel,extract information from those people.But he had cornered the girl-who,for all he knew was just someone's dim witted girlfriend-and she was terrified and obviously clueless.The men didn't look any smarter-and what about the thuggish pretty boy who smelled inhuman?That was just weird.Some bizarro mutant probably,but not claw proof. 

Idiots;they were all fucking idiots.No one fucked with Wolverine and lived to talk about it.You'd think they'd all know that by now. 

He wandered the streets,the buildings titanic monoliths of glass and steel,lit up like Christmas trees and giving the sidewalks a sort of false daylight where the shadows huddled together outside pools of scalding light.The cars sped by on the street as fast as traffic would allow while the sidewalk denizens alternated between hurried paranoid gaits and leisurely paces,rarely meeting anyone's eyes.The city felt tense,and he rather liked that.He was at home with powder kegs,although admittedly he was usually the one setting them off or stamping them out. 

He blearily remembered he had to make contact with Enigma or Vector,figure out what was going on...but he had no idea how to do that.And who were they,anyways? 

All he knew for sure was that he was Wolverine,and walking death for anyone who crossed him. 

He paused at the next intersection and looked up at a tall,narrow building that seemed to deliberately resemble a missile with gigantism;a red light light blinking slowly on top of a long spire on the roof as a warning to low flying aircraft.He found himself fixated on the light:red blinking lights.Where had he seen those before? 

He smelled someone behind him,trying to come upon him quietly,and he spun,not unsheathing his claws but ready to in a millisecond. 

He found a man of average height and slim build standing in the shadows of the building,trying to look casual in spite of the sudden spike of fear that had just shot through him.He wore a natty dark blue suit,and resembled nothing so much as a lawyer."Bellerophon,"he said,a slight tremor in his otherwise cool voice. 

For a moment he just stared at him,wondering what he was on,and suddenly something clicked in his mind.Wolverine suddenly felt connected to himself again,the dizziness falling away like a shroud,and even though his mind refused to sort itself out,it seemed like everything suddenly made sense. 

"Come with me,Wolverine.You have new orders,"the man said,heading towards a long dark car parked at the curb. 

He wasn't Vector or Enigma;he didn't have any idea who he was. 

But Wolverine went with him anyways. 

    INTERLUDE 

Several years earlier-Alkali Lake,Canada 

    She knew when they called her in,they must have had an extra hard case,because they only called for her when they tired of hitting their heads against brick walls. 

But she couldn't believe she had to convince them to let her use the new weapon in her arsenal, especially after all they had done to the man. 

He was referred to generally by his issued serial number,or his new identity,Wolverine,which seemed like a deeply silly name.But once he started getting rather odd and voluminous facial hair after the genetic enhancement experiments,it made a certain amount of sense.But it was still a stupid name,in her opinion. 

But,considering her name was Enigma,she probably had no room to talk. 

He had been a thorn in the Organization's side for some time;he refused to cooperate on every level,no matter what they did to him,and they used the whole box of tricks on him.They even made up a few new ones,including the wide awake surgeries to implant the adamantium skeleton and claws.It was intended to break his will apparently,but in her opinion it was idiotic,because all it could do was break his mind.That did seem to be the end result,at first;now it seemed to have resolved his will,made it stronger.Pumbing the depths of his subconscious to see what he really desired,she found he wanted to murder them all.She thought it was hilarious,and didn't waste any time in informing Vector,who wasn't at all amused,but that just made it funnier.No matter what they did to him,he intended to hang on and survive,at least long enough to make them all pay;their experiment had backfired spectacularly.And considering his history of extreme willfulness,why were they surprised? 

But his desire for revenge made him the perfect candidate for testing Dreamland. 

They weren't convinced of that,though,so it was a tedious week of routine psychological torture and probing before Vector finally gave her the go ahead to try her experiment.But in that time she had come to admire Logan/Wolverine-he was almost as stubborn as she was,and he would die before he gave in.And considering he seemed virtually indestructible,he was in for the long haul.  
Of course,the fact that he looked really good naked didn't hurt either when it came to being in what passed for her good graces.It was better than constantly working with the physically repulsive,but such was the burden of a professional torturer. 

Dreamland was her newest creation,and one she was quite proud of;part psychotropic drug,part synthetic neurotransmitter analogs with a smidgen of hallucinogenic compounds,if used with routine programming it could alter the personality of your subject to whatever you desired.In theory.But she knew from experience personalities created from whole cloth and then implanted never stuck for long-the old one constantly surfaced,leaving you with an unstable amalgam that could easily become psychotic from being unable to reconcile the schism between realities.What she intended to use Dreamland for in Logan was simply to create a 'back up' personality,but one that was so much of him that the 'first' (core) personality would never be missed.And she could do that by focusing on his hate. 

It was easy to do,really.Everyone had their dark sides,but self-censoring mechanisms and the intangible concepts of empathy and morality usually kept people from acting on them.So all she had to do was wipe those out,suppress any 'humane' urges,and let the true Logan-the true Wolverine-out of his self-imposed cage. 

It didn't take very long at all. 

Then it was just a case of implanting a few core beliefs,such as the Organization being the 'good guys',not the ones who mutilated him;that was the work of shadowy 'others' they were going to help him find.And,as a back up,she planted a trigger word in his subconscious mind-Bellerophon.If he started to get on shaky mental ground,it would bring the second (dark) personality to the surface.The personality who only knew itself as Wolverine. 

Finally,the day had arrived when she was confident the new,improved Wolverine could be shown to the others.When she arrived at his quarters (cell),he stared at her blankly,not even recognizing her as one of his more effective torturers."Come on,Wolverine.Vector has a mission for you." 

He continued to stare at her,sitting up on the edge of his cot,blanket pooled around his naked waist,and for a second she wondered if she had accidentally wiped out and suppressed too much of his mind.But then he snorted derisively,and said,"Yeah,whatever.As long as I get to kill something." 

She smiled at him,giving herself a little mental pat on the back;she had succeeded beyond her wildest expectations.She had created a being of pure rage. 

Meeting with him,Vector had filled his claustrophobic office with guards armed with paralyzers in case Logan attacked him,but that wasn't going to happen.He wasn't Logan anymore. 

And as they were leaving,Vector gave her a look that seemed to show his new respect for her methods,which made her want to laugh anew.Brainwashing,like torture,was an art,not something any average schmo could do with a chain saw and a tool kit. 

Maybe this was the start of better things. 

Several months later 

    He moved quietly,avoiding standing up straight so the remaining guards on the ground didn't spy him as he scuttled over to the far edge of the slate shingled roof.The drastic,sharp peak of the mansion's overly ornate roof actually helped block his view on one side as he reached his target point without any problem.Not that there was ever any problem;sometimes he wished there were more problems.They didn't keep him busy enough in his opinion.It was a big,ugly world,full of people begging to be killed. 

Wolverine hung over the edge of the roof so he could reach the darkened window beneath,and unsheathed a single claw.Carefully,he used the tip to cut a circle in the glass,big enough for him to get an arm through.He was very quiet,but the scratch of metal on glass seemed to echo throughout the secluded valley where the manse was hidden,bouncing off the trees and hills of the dense forest beyond.The night was so quiet he could hear the distant chatter of the guard's radios,and knew only he,with his greater aural capabilities,could pick it up. 

With a small push,the glass circle fell inward,shattering softly on the carpet inside the room.  
He had to shift positions,so he let himself slide head first off the edge of the roof,catching himself at the last second by popping his claws and digging them into the outer facade to the right of the large,rectangular window.He reached through and removed the bar latch jamming the window shut,then retracted his arm before sliding the window open and crawling inside,pulling his claws from the wall as soon as he was halfway over the sill. 

This was a private study,the only room not rigged with infrared alarms due to its location,and the crepuscular,heavily curtained den smelled of leather furniture,musty books,and aged cigars.  
Wolverine crept over to a large,desk shaped shadow,and found a small humidor,from which he stole a handful of cigars,sticking them inside his black shirt.Hell,it wasn't like this guy was going to use them anymore. 

He then crept towards the door,the carpet muffling his footsteps,and he heard someone in the neighboring room,approaching at a leisurely pace.No one had been alerted;it was simply someone on his way here,probably for a drink and a smoke.The target. 

He stood beside the door,his back to the wall,and waited.It wasn't long before the door opened, reducing the target to a long shadowy figure backlit by the dim lights of the corridor,and he came inside,unaware that he was anything but alone. 

Wolverine thrust out his arm and unsheathed his claws at the same time.The metal prongs punched through his back and straight through his lung,his spine,and heart. 

He made a wet,gasping noise,and then quickly died,still skewered on Wolverine's claws.He retracted them and caught the man before his body could hit the floor,dragging him further inside the room. 

And there,in the dim sliver of light from the hallway,he saw he had killed the wrong man. 

He was older than the target,maybe forty five,and dressed in dark clothes that suggested he was a servant of some sort-a butler,a valet.Shit!He should have known better than to work for an asshole of this magnitude. 

As he dragged the man over to the couch and unceremoniously dumped him there,something happened that had never happened to Wolverine before:he felt pity for the man. 

It was bizarre-he'd never felt bad for anyone,and yet...this man shouldn't have died.Some small voice in the back of his mind told him he shouldn't even be here,he shouldn't even be doing this... 

He felt ill and his head hurt,which also had never happened before,and Wolverine was so angry at himself,yelling at himself inside his own mind to shut the fuck up,he almost didn't hear someone come up the stairs. 

He quickly hid behind the open door as he heard the target say,"James?Is something wrong?" 

More than he can possibly tell you,Wolverine thought,and while usually such thoughts would amuse him,right now it just made him feel sicker. 

The man stopped just inside the doorway,probably seeing James propped up on the couch,so Wolverine jammed his claws through the door,stabbing them through the target's right side.He made several gurgling noises before falling heavily against the door,and when Wolverine retracted his claws,he slid down to the carpet,thudding heavily on the floor. 

Rather than move him he just left him there;he wanted to get out of here now. 

Wolverine quickly climbed out the window,using his claws to climb back to the roof,which he scuttled across carefully,just like before,only this time he felt conflicted,angry,and sick. 

He didn't want to feel this way;he was tired of feeling hostile all the time,of getting satisfaction from nothing but the blood of others...the thoughts were so distracting he felt dizzy.He had to sit down for a moment. 

He did,taking several deep breaths of the cool night air,listening to the faint,tinny noises of routine voices on the radio of the still unaware guards.He had to get out of here before they discovered their boss was dead,or they'd lock down the property and he'd have to fight tooth and nail to get out.Normally that would appeal to him,but for some reason not tonight. 

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

He got up and continued across the roof,clouds scudding over the face of the quarter moon and shading him from the pale light that it offered as he decided,once he was out of here,he was going to get a drink.Or several.Whatever it took to make these feelings go away. 

    Enigma waited in Wolverine's hotel room,marveling at the fact that,no matter how much you brainwash a man,certain tastes (or lack thereof) lingered. 

He could have stayed in a nice hotel,something luxurious-certainly the Organization was willing to pamper its top assassin-but Wolverine felt more comfortable in humbler,seedier places,where his looks and manner of dress got less attention.And it didn't matter if he was nice to anyone, because no one expected it. 

But the very fact that his tastes remained blue collar and lower rent may have indicated a problem. 

She had decided to check on him due to the possibility that his extraordinary body was adapting to Dreamland,making it less and less effective.It was always a risk;his superior system had proven it could get used to almost anything.Even the most physically addictive,narcotizing drugs lost their effectiveness on him after a while,until they were rendered as useless and harmless  
as water.She figured since much of Dreamtime was neurochemical analogs he wouldn't adapt as quickly,but she knew the possibility still existed.Still she didn't expect it to happen so quickly. 

He really was an extraordinary specimen;she could see why he was their favorite guinea pig. 

She sat on the ledge of his window,looking past the red lit neon sign flashing like a lightning bug with a stutter and buzzing like an angry wasp with no sense of rhythm,and looked down at the wet,rain slicked streets below.It should have cleaned things up,but it just made things look muddier.It was like this whole section of town was covered with a film of slimey,indestructible grime. 

Even this pathetic hotel room-probably what past for the 'best' in this decrepit place-made her feel like she needed a shower:a walk in closet sized main room contained a single bed,covered with a red quilted bedspread that reeked of must and laundry solvents;several small tables,one of which had a portable t.v. set precariously on top of it; and all furniture was bolted to the floor,which spoke highly of the general clientele.She hadn't checked out the locker sized bathroom yet,mainly because she was afraid to. 

She heard the scrape of a key in the lock,and while she was sure it was Wolverine returning shockingly late from his mission,she kept her hand on her gun,ready to shoot through her jacket if it turned out to be a member of the opposition. 

Wolverine wasn't the only assassin in this hotel. 

She eased her hand off the gun as she saw the familiar silhouette of Wolverine in the dim, yellowish hallway light. 

Reaching for the light switch,he froze,instantly defensive,and she could hear him sniff before he relaxed and threw the switch,turning on two ugly ceramic table lamps that she would have gladly lobbed out the window if they hadn't been bolted down.Maybe that's why they were secured. "Enigma,what are you doing here?"He asked gruffly,glancing around for anyone who might be hiding in the room.As if anyone could in such a small space. 

"There's been a change of plans,"she said,shoving herself off the sill,but she remained standing in front of the window.Normally she'd never do such a thing,but the window faced a brick wall,and the building adjacent to the hotel was too high for anyone to take a shot from the roof.That's probably why Wolverine picked this room. 

He closed the door and reflexively locked it before taking off his beaten brown leather jacket and tossing it on the chair wedged in the corner."So?Tell me over the phone." 

"Sometimes we have to have contact with you,"she replied,smelling the beer on his breath.He wasn't drunk-she vaguely wondered how many gallons of alcohol it would take to actually make him intoxicated (he adapted to that too)-but that explained why he was so late returning from the assignment. 

"I don't need a handler,"he growled,turning away from her and towards the shoebox sized closet as he pulled his black t-shirt over his head.He was wearing a white undershirt beneath,so she couldn't admire his back,but she quickly noted several dark objects falling to the floor-items hidden beneath his shirt. 

"What are those?"She asked,even as she recognized them:cigars. 

"Souvenirs,"he replied,crouching down and gathering them up in one hand.He wrapped them in his black shirt as he stood,and stashed them in the closet.He seemed almost embarrassed, ashamed...and she knew that Dreamland was indeed losing its effectiveness.Shame-guilt-was an emotion she had wiped out of him...at least at first.But with this small breech of his mental firewalls,she knew things could shortly become a flood. 

In her pocket was a large dose of Dreamland-the largest she felt could be safely administered. Slightly higher doses had killed every test subject she had used,from animals to mutants,although Wolverine was no ordinary mutant by any means. 

Still,if his system and his brain had adapted to it,it wouldn't last very long at all.She rather hoped the large dose would do him for now;she would hate to say goodbye to her favorite and most successful pet project. 

"Did things go well?"She asked,wondering how she was going to give him the shot.She doubted he'd roll up his sleeve and let her inject him. 

"He's dead,"he said tersely,entering the bathroom and shutting the door. 

She smiled,almost laughing.It was really a shame he wasn't working with them voluntarily,because she rather liked him - he was a man after her own heart.Well,her theoretical heart;she'd be the first to admit she never really had one. 

The water ran in the sink for several minutes,and she had a feeling he was trying to wash the imaginary blood off his hands.Of course,that was pure speculation,but she had very good intuition,even though she could claim no mutant status.But she knew people.And Dreamland was failing him worse than she thought.Either that,or the real Logan was still fighting back, somewhere deep in his subconsciousness.After all,Logan was never technically broken,just chemically subdued. 

When he came out,his eyes narrowed in distaste."You're still here?" 

She decided to just get the mission briefing out of the way first;then she'd worry about filling him full of Dreamland."Target Seventeen is on the move;he knows he's in shit so he's bolting.He'll be at the airport at two in the morning-he'll be incognito,trying to catch the first red eye out of gate fourteen.He and his wife must be intercepted and removed before they reach the plane." 

"Seventeen?"He snapped irritably."Photos." 

She pulled the small photo out of her pocket,showing Target and his wife,and held it out towards Wolverine.He came closer and squinted at the picture of the unremarkable middle aged man and his younger,blonder wife."Oh,right." 

Taking that as confirmation,she started tearing up the picture and walked into his tiny bathroom,not turning on the light so she didn't have to see how bad it was while dumping the photo fragments in the toilet and flushing them away. 

Once she came out,he was sitting on the end of the bed,taking off his boots."Fine,I'm briefed,now go.I still don't get why you had to come here in person and tell me." 

She paused and looked at him,wondering if she could get him to admit how badly he was falling apart,and away from Dreamland's influences."A little human contact is always good.Don't you miss it sometimes?" 

He snorted derisively as he pulled one of his boots off."I get human contact when I kill 'em.That's enough." 

"Is it?" 

He glanced up at her,but when she caught his eyes he quickly looked down at the carpet and busied himself taking off his last boot.Yes,it was worse than she thought. 

"Why are you still here?"He snapped,tossing his boots aside.He stood up,giving her an evil look,and he was clearly in defensive mode,which was both funny and telling. 

She smiled at him,and wondered if he wanted to play.It would certainly make dosing him much easier."Maybe I like you,"she replied,meeting his eyes. 

He turned away with a disgusted snort."No one likes me." 

"Oh,I'm sorry.Did I scare you?" 

She knew that would get to him.He turned around slowly,eyebrow raised,and he was almost smiling (oh yes,Wolverine was falling apart)."Do you really think anything can scare me?" 

"I think I just did." 

He stalked towards her,trying to intimidate her,but all she did was swallow the urge to laugh:she had him in the Chair for days,and he had no memories of it.Any time she wanted,she could crush him-the proof of it was he didn't remember it.He stopped right in front of her,barely two inches away,and glared down at her.She looked up at him,smiling so she didn't laugh,and asked,"Well?" 

He grabbed her roughly around the waist,crushing her against his muscular frame as he kissed her violently enough to make her feel momentarily smothered.But she grabbed his head and pulled at his hair,making him growl,and then bit down hard on his lower lip.She couldn't help but be curious how much of the 'animalistic traits' they tried to fill him with had stuck,and his growling was kind of erotic,in a kinky sort of way. 

She let him rip off her jacket,wondering if he'd ever know how easily she could play him. 

    Strange noises woke Enigma up,but as soon as she was reasonably conscious,she knew what it was:Wolverine. 

She rolled over to see Wolverine asleep beside her,but his eyes moved rapidly behind his eyelids,and the noises he made were grunts of pain,barely restrained cries of horror,and she knew that Logan was trying to sneak back in through the subconscious,just like she feared. 

She slid out of bed,still slightly sore but happily so-there were obvious benefits to everything they had done to him-but she was damned if she was going to lose her pet project to his stubborn alter ego. 

She retrieved the hypo from her coat then returned to bed,sliding beneath the rough sheets before inserting the needle in his upper arm,in a vein that stood out in rope like relief as his muscles clenched in response to the nightmare/memory he was having. 

As soon as the Dreamland hit his bloodstream he started to relax,quieting down as all of Logan's troubling memories were swept back under the carpet,his REM movements slowing down, and she slid the used needle into the nearest nightstand drawer.She could crush it and flush it while Wolverine was gone, and as always,he would never know.Just more of the power she had over him. 

As she laid back down and went back to sleep,she couldn't help but smile.Wolverine thought he was the more dangerous person alive,but he had no idea that she held his reins,and could choke him back whenever she wanted. 

Well,at least as long as Dreamland worked.When it stopped,they were all screwed. 

    When she woke up again,he was once again making noise.But this time,he was getting ready to leave. 

She glanced at the cheap alarm clock bolted to the nightstand,and its bright red letters read 1:16 am-time for him to go if he wanted to get to the airport on time. 

He sat down on the end of the bed and she watched him pull on his boots,his back strangely rigid.She assumed it was part of the effects of excessive Dreamland in his system-he was so primed for action he was coiling like a spring,and she knew they'd be lucky if he didn't kill the person he didn't like the look of.But what was the harm in that? 

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he shrugged on his jacket in the darkness, slightly red tinged from the hotel's neon sign.When he reached the door,she asked,"You need back up?" 

Without even turning,he grunted humorously and left,locking the door behind him. 

Yep,she could learn to really like him.As long as he remained just the way she liked him:lacking memories and lacking a conscience. 

    The airport was an oasis of light and noise after the false sense of peace that late night brought the rest of the city,and the smell and noise of all these people seemed assaultive and offensive to Wolverine.But he adapted and forced himself onward,deeper into the shambling crowd of people,trying hard to avoid physical contact with anyone.That was generally easy,as when people saw him and the look on his face,they were more than happy to get the fuck out of his way. 

He felt strange,and he didn't know why.He thought he had a nightmare (a nightmare?!What the fuck...he wasn't scared of anything!),but when he tried to remember it the black emptiness of his mind just swallowed it whole,leaving him nothing but a vague sense of unease.And he didn't feel uneasy about anything either,so he was pissed off even more. 

Maybe he shouldn't have slept with Enigma.He had learned that killing people was a hell of a lot more satisfying for him than sex,and that seemed wrong,although he couldn't say why.Not that he wouldn't fuck her again if the opportunity arose,but...shit!Why didn't anything seem right anymore?! 

Sometimes he wasn't sure who he was or what he was doing or why.And he was growing more and more convinced the gaping holes in his memory meant something.Was it really due to a car accident?Nothing could hurt him-he was invincible,indestructible.So why would a stupid,stinking car wreck damage his brain beyond repair?It didn't make sense. 

He shook the doubts out of his mind and headed for Gate Fourteen,avoiding the metal detectors.  
Maybe killing someone would make him feel better. 

He wended his way through the clots of people and made his way to the ticket desks,scouring every face in the crowd for the target,feeling so tensed and ready for action he considered jogging around the concourse just to burn a little of it off.He really did feel odd,didn't he?And hungry;suddenly he was hungry.But he had sex a few hours ago-the need for a pizza after was normal. 

Finally,in a small crush of people headed towards the boarding gates,he saw the target.A bland looking middle aged man with a head like a coconut,he blended in easily with a similar herd of middle aged ugly guys in dark suits that made them look like a pack of morticians on the hunt from fresh bodies.Well,he'd give them at least one then.  



	4. Part 4

Wolverine tried not to follow them obviously,which was difficult in the thinning crowd,but then things started turning his way:a plane was unloading passengers,and they were flooding into the terminal as he started stalking his prey towards Gate Fourteen. 

But where was the wife?He saw several blondes,but none of them with the group,and none the wife. 

His opportunity came when the human tide bottlenecked in a corridor.He slid through the crowd until he was right behind his target,then popped a single claw as he held his hand up towards the target's back.It sliced through his suit and his skin with equal silence,and the target only uttered a breathless gasp as it penetrated his heart. 

Wolverine retracted his claw and walked away as the target collapsed,and the crowd parted first,then swirled around the target as some people shouted out random orders-they thought he was having a heart attack.By the time they discovered he'd been stabbed in the back,he'd be long gone. 

He shouldered his way out of the corridor-it was easier in the panic-and then looked around carefully as he walked back through the terminal.Where was the secondary target?They said she'd be here,and it wasn't like the Organization to fuck up in such a huge way. 

It was then he saw her. 

She was late,obviously.She looked frazzled and lost,dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her,her previously long blonde hair cut into a skull hugging bob,making her look younger and yet more anachronistic at the same time. 

He closed in on her unnoticed as she stood looking up at the arrival and departure monitors up above her,confusion clear on her plain face,and he had a clean shot.With most people either leaving or heading for their gates,they weren't even looking at each other. 

He was in position,and all he had to do was get close and pop a claw.Nothing to it. 

So why was he just standing here,staring at her back? 

Something in him was recoiling in horror at what he had just done,and what he was thinking of doing now:killing a woman in cold blood. 

She wasn't even a worthy target-she had just been added to the list because of her husband.But he couldn't see how she could meet anyone's criteria of a risk. 

He shook his head,and made himself focus.Just off the bitch and get out of here.What was so hard about that? 

But he couldn't do it.Something inside him kept insisting this was wrong and freezing him in place. He could barely even breathe. 

What was wrong with him?What the fuck was going on? 

Suddenly the woman turned around,and gasped in surprised when she noticed him standing right behind her.She tried to laugh it off nervously,and said,"Oh,you startled me,sorry.Um,can you tell me where Gate Fourteen is?" 

There,she was facing him.He wouldn't be stabbing her in the back now,would he? 

For a moment,her stared into her guileless hazel eyes,and tried to will himself to do what was normally as easy as breathing for him. 

But he couldn't.The very idea made him nauseous,and he was no longer hungry. 

"I don't know,"he lied,then pivoted on his heels and stalked away,towards the exit,his stomach knotting in anxiety. 

Even when he walked out the front and disappeared in the night,the screams of sirens just hitting his ears,he couldn't believe what he had just done.He had let a target get away.He had her,and he let her go. 

Wolverine wondered if he should just keep walking until the Organization tracked him down and put him out of his misery,because he didn't know who he was anymore. 

    Wolverine seemed sullen after he returned from the airport,telling her only that the target had been destroyed,and went to take a long bath.And no,he didn't need anyone to scrub his back. 

Enigma saw why on the news. 

The target was indeed killed.His wife appeared to be very distraught about it when she was interviewed by the reporters. 

She had rented the room next to Wolverine's,so she went to it to field the inevitable call from Vector about this,and grew increasingly nervous as the call never came. 

Wolverine was too valuable to destroy-they had invested a lot of money and time in him,and they had yet to find anyone quite as resilient or indestructable as he was.But what would become of her pet project?They couldn't let him continue on as he was doing now. 

Unexpectedly,there was a knock at the door,and she grabbed her gun in the pocket of her new coat as she asked warily through the door,"What?" 

"Vector Prime has been initiated,"a somewhat bored male voice answered. 

The code:it was someone from the Organization.Shit-if they sent someone in person,things were really bad.Reluctantly,she unlocked the door and let them come in,but she kept her hand on her hidden gun.You could never be too careful. 

She recognized the tall,sepulchral figure of Overseer as he came in the door,and knew Wolverine was in deeper shit than she ever would have guessed. 

The gaunt,fish eyed man shut the door behind him,and gave her a look far too cold to be called a glare."Wolverine failed." 

"The main target was-" 

"Wolverine failed,"he interrupted,his voice as emotionless as a synthetic one you'd get from a computer."Wolverine does not fail.Even when he had to allow himself to be captured to gain access to the Shadow Base,he fought his way through thirty seven armed soldiers to retrieve the needed codes;he even tracked down and killed an extra sixteen just for the sheer hell of it.This was an easy op,and he bungled it." 

She remembered the Shadow Base operation,one of his first as Wolverine.Once they reached the drop point,a scan showed a single living person in the entire two acre vicinity,and that was,of course,Wolverine.He wiped them out in less than an hour,proving the Organization's faith in him was well placed.He was a killing machine...as long as Dreamland work.Sadly,it looked as if its time had come and gone."Main target was eradicated,"she pointed out again,this time successfully. 

But he didn't care."Irrelevant.There were two targets,and he let one get past him." 

Or let them go,she thought,and knew that had to be what happened.The new dose of Dreamland was not enough;too little,too late.His conscience had reasserted itself,and he couldn't kill her.She had won the battle for control of his mind,but with his body's amazing regenerative (and adaptive) capabilities,Logan had ultimately won the war.Well,she had to give him credit;he was a formidable opponent."Relapse was inevitable.I told Vector it wouldn't hold indefinitely." 

"Failure was not predicted this soon,"he said in his funereal monotone."If you'd like a small chance at redemption,here it is."He took something out of his coat pocket and tossed it to her. 

She caught it with one hand,and knew what the ampule of pale blue liquid was before she even looked at the markings on the otherwise generic white label:Dreamland. 

But the dosage was lethal times six. 

"You can't be serious,"she said,letting her hand fall to her side,ampule held firmly in her palm. 

"This dose should have some effect,yes?" 

"Oh,you bet-it'll render him brain dead.You'll fry every fucking synapse he has,asshole!"She spat,disgusted by his stupidity."And where the hell did you get this?Dreamland comes from my lab only." 

Overseer gave her a rather condescending look,his thin lips quirking up in what probably passed for a smile."You knew that couldn't last forever,Enigma." 

It was then what exactly he said hit her:a chance at redemption.Son of a bitch-she was going to take the fall for Wolverine's mistake.And in the Organization,falls were short,sharp,and hard...and,needless to say,permanent.And,by trying to usurp her lab (and Dreamland),they were taking away the only bargaining chip she had.She was doomed,and only because Wolverine was too valuable to throw away. 

She nodded,resigned to her brutal fate,and brought her hand up to look at the ampule of Dreamland once more. 

As she did,she pulled the trigger on the gun hidden in her coat. 

Along with the built in silencer,the shot amounted to little more than a loud pop,and her aim was true-straight through Overseer's theoretical heart. 

He had time to gape at her in wide eyed horror,gurgling for breath as blood gushed out the small,pencil sized hole in his chest,and then he collapsed to his knees before falling on his face on the carpet,as dead as he always looked. 

She glanced down at the hole in her jacket,frowning.And she'd just bought it. 

Wolverine burst in,inadvertently shoving Overseer's body aside as threw open the door,claws sprung and ready to go.But when he saw her,he stopped,confused,and then sniffed the air.He followed the scent of blood to the body behind the door. 

"What..?"He began,confused.He looked between her and the body,his dark wet hair flopping in his eyes. 

"He tried to kill me,"she told him,and it wasn't completely a lie:she was doomed the moment Overseer came in the door.Killing him really didn't make her any more doomed. 

Wolverine was fully dressed,but his clothes clung to him mercilessly,suggesting he'd dressed in a hurry.Maybe he heard her voice raised-god knows these walls were cardboard thin-and assumed trouble.So,Logan was winning,but hadn't obliterated Wolverine yet. 

Good. 

"We have a final mission,Wolverine,and success is imperative." 

He glanced down at the carpet and swallowed hard,his Adam's apple bobbing unsteadily in his throat."Enigma,I'm not sure-" 

"You don't have to kill anyone,at least in theory,"she interrupted,not giving him a chance to apologize or whatever the hell he was going to do.He looked up sharply,and she could see the surprise in his eyes.Didn't he guess that she would figure it out?"We simply have to destroy a biological weapons laboratory." 

"We?"He repeated dubiously."Since when do handlers come on missions?" 

"I wasn't always a handler,Wolverine.It takes an assassin to know one.And the lab in question is mine."With that,she dropped the ampule of Dreamland-probably the last one in existence,if everything went according to plan-on the floor,and ground it into the threadbare shit brown carpet with the heel of her boot. 

If the Organization thought they were going to screw her over and steal her greatest project, they had a hard lesson to learn. 

And,much to her shock,she found she was more than happy to shove that lesson all the way down their throats. 

    She drove all day,stopping only once to hotwire a newer car to throw the Organization off their trail,even though they had to know where she'd be going.And even though she hadn't slept at all,she felt wired. 

She would sleep when she was dead. 

Wolverine was slowly but surely coming apart at the seams as the Dreamland continued to wear off,although Wolverine wasn't completely gone yet.She was glad;she was going to need him now. 

She carefully drove the twisty roads that led them deeper into the dense pine forest,the sun setting on the unseen horizon turning the sky an angry orange red that made the trees into sharp black spires.Shadows pooled beneath the overhanging branches,making excellent hiding places,but the Organization would never be so crass or obvious. 

"I know this place,"Wolverine said,staring at the trees as she drove past them. 

"We're not far from the first staging area." 

"The what?" 

She shook her head."Forget it.No,don't bother-you will." 

Out of the corner of her eye,she saw him turn his head sharply to glare at her,but she kept her eyes on winding ribbon or concrete before them,not bothering to look his way. 

"What do you mean?" 

"It doesn't matter,Wolverine." 

"That's not my name,"he said,and seemed stunned by what had fallen out of his mouth."It's not my name.What is my name?" 

"I don't know."She lied,pulling the car off the road and into what appeared to be just another patch of forest.Except the practiced eye would noticed the underbrush was cleared away,the ground unusually flat,and all lower branches trimmed off. 

"What is your name?"He asked. 

"You know it-Enigma." 

"I mean your real name."He persisted.The stubborn man in the chair was definitely coming back now. 

"I don't know either."Although it was a lie too,she didn't really care about her real name anymore; when she joined the Organization,it ceased to matter.Like most of her life. 

She brought the car to a stop beneath a lowering Ponderosa pine,within obstructed view of the lab's razor wire fence."So why do they call you Enigma?"He continued,relentless,as if she was prey he was stalking. 

She smirked,amused by his persistence.Maybe,if he survived all this,he could eventually be the worst thorn in the side the Organization ever had.She rather hoped that was true."Because nobody gets me."She pointed out the window,towards the fragment of fence gleaming in the dying sun,and told him,"They've illegally infiltrated my lab.I expect the presence of agents to be quite heavy,and resistance to be formidable.All I need to do is get inside the complex.Can I count on you to get me inside?" 

He looked straight into her eyes,and she noticed the oddest thing:one of his eyes was half green,the iris slowly,inexorably changing from the blue,the color diffusing like a drop of dye in water."I can get you in.But what are you going to do inside?" 

She tried to smile,but never quite managed it."Destroy my life's work.It's fitting somehow that I do it." 

"What are you doing with a lab anyways?" 

This time,she did smile."Hey,I can't give away all my secrets,can I?I wouldn't be Enigma then,would I?" 

She got out of the car,and after a moment,Wolverine followed. 

    Tactically,it made sense for Wolverine to crash the compound from the front,gaining the most attention,as she snuck around the back. 

Wolverine was still alive and functioning-rather than scale the fence,he simply slashed an opening in it,bringing out freaked guards who quickly got their asses kicked.A small but clear alarm began to sound,echoing off the wall of trees as she carefully climbed the back fence,where there was a small snip in the razor wire,allowing her to avoid it unharmed,save for a few snags on her jacket.  
She wanted to sneak in through a back entrance,but knew they'd all be covered.Instead,she ripped the metal mesh off a window on the side of the small complex,and easily lifted it up,allowing her to sneak into her own place like a burglar. 

The dull cinderblock bunker exterior gave no hint to the modern,stainless steel interior,which had the unfortunate effect of amplifying sounds,although it made cleaning spilled blood a breeze.She waited quietly in the supply closet-for that's what it was,its stale air pungent with the scent of chemical sterilizers and suspension mediums-until she heard a huge noise like a steamroller smashing through the front of the building,followed by a man's scream that was more like the roar of an enraged beast,and reverberated through the halls like a waking nightmare.One of the stupid fucks guarding the place had probably hurt Wolverine somehow,and all that did was piss him off.But it would probably throw him into a berserker rage,which meant they'd have this place cleaned out even sooner than she expected. 

After she heard rapid footsteps recede down the hall,she dared to emerge from the closet,and started creeping down the dull silver corridor towards the central lab. 

Enigma always knew the Organization might try and co-opt her lab if her experiments ever panned out,so she had prepared for that contingency,although they didn't know that.They continued to underestimate her and her abilities,and that was going to cost them dearly. 

As she came around the bend in the hall,she saw two guards standing sentry,their backs to her:obviously they were told to hold the line from a rear guard attack.She almost felt sorry for the stupid son of a bitches. 

She withdrew her handgun from her pocket and smashed the butt of it across the first soldier's head,making him hit the floor hard enough to audibly crack a bone.His friend turned,rifle out,but she shoved the gun muzzle back,making the butt slam him in the stomach,and as he doubled over,she snap kicked him in the face,breaking his nose on impact.He didn't dive more than he simply crumpled to the floor in a heap,but she held on to his rifle and pulled it out of his limp hands,pocketing her handgun once more. 

If they wanted to even try and get out of here alive,they were going to need some serious firepower. 

    Wolverine slashed out wildly with his claws as the soldiers tried to overwhelm him with their sheer numbers,struggling to get close enough to him to use their paralyzers.Enigma had warned him they might have them,boxy shaped weapons that interfered with nerve impulses (or something like that),and would knock him out or at least render him unable to do anything but lay there as they beat the shit out of him.But right now he ached from a bullet wound-some asshole shot him in the back,which accomplished nothing,since the bullet just bounced off his adamantium spine and went out-but in a way,it had accomplished something. 

His rage was a pure and frightening thing;it seemed to fill him like a molten white light,and he heard nothing in his ears but a drone,like his skull was full of angry bees,and it seemed to narrow his vision like a rifle's scope as he lashed out as the stupid men tried futilely to beat him into submission. 

They screamed as their fists smashed into unyielding metal hiding beneath his flesh and his claws raked their chests,their faces,the smell of their blood and the taste of his own in his mouth spurring him on as he kicked out,crushing someone's sternum with a single blow as he cleared a path down the long steel corridor.He could hear moans and sobs behind him,indicating some form of life,and he spun on his heels to take them out... 

And suddenly stopped.There was no point in killing them;they wouldn't be crawling to their feet and coming after him any time soon.But it was hard to fight back the roiling tide of rage that threatened to overwhelm him,filling his head with an angry roar of rushing blood,but he somehow fought it back and continued down the hall,searching for Enigma. 

He came across the bodies of two guards-unconscious and bleeding,not quite dead yet-and went on,finding three more bodies of soldiers,although they had been shot,and were very,very dead.Well,she had claimed to be an assassin... 

Passing a sealed room,he heard a voice,and paused to listen."...second team now.Yes it's a fucking emergency!She brought Wolverine with her!No,I don't know how,but he's decimated the first team!Deploy Beta now!" 

He shouldered open the door,and the man inside,standing beside a metal desk and shouting desperately into the phone,jumped,dropping the receiver as he scrabbled for the sidearm he wore on his hip. 

Wolverine (what was his name..?) gave him a feral grin,holding his clawless hands out as he approached the young soldier,who now stunk of fear."Do you really think one team will be enough?I mean,I'm only one guy..." 

The soldier pulled his gun,and Wolverine swung his hand,claws popping out in midair and slicing the barrel off the military issue automatic pistol.The soldier,desperate,kicked out,but Wolverine caught his leg and yanked him forward.He lost his balance and fell backwards,hitting his head hard on the corner of the desk,knocking himself out. 

Wolverine shrugged and dropped his leg,heading back out the door.Sometimes it was just too easy. 

But he felt so strange;disconnected,as if all of this was happening to someone else,and he was viewing it all from down a long tunnel inside his own mind.The rage was ebbing away,the void being filled with utter confusion:who was he?And what the hell was he really doing? 

He wondered why he was helping her.The idea of screwing over the Organization was very appealing,but he had a sneaking feeling she had done something awful to him.Of course,all he could remember was her sleeping with him,which was not awful,but it was her way of asserting more control over him....now where the hell had that thought come from? 

Wolverine had no idea who he was,who Enigma really was,why he was going along with this,or why the holes in his mind were suddenly gaping,memories he was sure he possessed being torn apart in a dark whirlwind of unknown origin,making him feel more than disoriented-he felt completely lost.But until he knew better,he was going to continue doing what he did best:kick people's asses. 

Finally,another trio of fallen soldiers led him to a large interior laboratory,surely the heart of the complex,and another dead man was just inside the doorway,the contents of his skull slowly leaking out onto the white tiled floor. 

He stepped over him,and headed towards Enigma,who seemed to be busy wiring something beneath a table.She glanced up at him over the barrel of a gun,but she quickly put it down and went back to work."Great job,Wolverine.Can you play lookout for a second?I'm almost done." 

He turned towards the door,but with great reluctance.A small part of him,buried in the recesses of his mind,felt he should kill her,but he didn't know why.But he was still convinced she was far from the semi-benevolent person she was now trying to pass herself off as."What are you doing?" 

"Preparing to blow this dump,"she replied casually,and he caught a whiff of something pungent enough to make his eyes water-rocket fuel?Something highly combustible.She was making an incendiary bomb?Well,that would do it.A high temperature burn would guarantee destruction of everything here,even if they were able to extinguish the fire quickly. 

"You had that stuff here,"he thought aloud,aware she hadn't brought anything with her save for her gun. 

"What's the first rule,Wolverine?"She asked,just like a teacher. 

"Prepare for all contingencies." 

"Exactly.I prepared to be screwed over at some point,and damn if I wasn't right." 

He had a feeling he had been screwed over a lot more,but he kept that unfinished thought to himself. 

"And if you remember only one thing I ever taught you,let it be this:always keep going.A moving target is harder to hit." 

"Not for me."He drawled. 

"Or for me either.But we are the rare exceptions,sweetheart." 

The 'sweetheart' comment made him glance towards her.but he figured out it was an almost maternal endearment;she wasn't that much older then him,was she?He'd swear she was younger.As she finished connecting the detonator to the explosives,he asked,"What's Beta team?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I found a guy on a phone,shouting that they needed to deploy Beta team because of me." 

"Shit."She slid out from beneath the table and jumped to her feet,wiping her hands on the side of her jeans."That would be a mutant retrieval squad.Let's go." 

It was then a hollow boom echoed through the lab,coming from the front and radiating outward,the noise washing over them like a sudden squall."Goddamn it,"she cursed."They're here. Quick,let's try and get out the way I came in." 

"What?"He asked,as she raced past him out the door.He quickly followed,only to nearly smash into her back.He smelled them and turned,claws shooting out as he did,but he saw for himself they were surrounded with over a dozen men in dark brown and green forest camouflage uniforms, either holding high powered automatic rifles,big versions of paralyzers,or something that looked sort of looked like short,wide barreled spearguns. 

"One move,Wolverine,and I'll use this,"the man closest to him said,aiming down the barrel of the weird ass gun. 

He snorted derisively."I'm supposed to be afraid of a speargun?" 

"It shoots out a tanglewire net,made of adamantium fibers,"Enigma said,her voice admiringly flat and calm."Not only will you not be able to cut through it,but it will shred you to ribbons." 

"Oh,since when were you such a spoilsport,Enigma?"A man of average height and icy blue eyes said,leveling a normal rifle at her chest.He recognized him,just barely-Vector. 

"Since you decided to take my project away from me,"she replied coolly."And I suggest you let us leave,or I'll kill us all."She held up her right hand,which was closed into a fist.He could just barely see what looked like a red switch beneath her thumb. 

Rifles clicked and leveled at her,but she just smiled."Yes,boys,shoot me.Go ahead." 

Vector gestured for them to wait as he gave her a nasty look,and Wolverine figured it out:dead man's switch.If she let go of the switch,or eased the pressure ever so slightly,it would trigger the detonator and blow them all to hell. 

Well,for all she was or wasn't,Wolverine had to hand it to her.She thought of everything. 

He could see in Vector's eyes the instant decision to grab Enigma's hand-if he could keep pressure on it,it wouldn't go off even if she released it-but she saw it too and moved her fist back towards him,saying,"Wolverine." 

He knew what she wanted him to do,and he did it instantly:retracting his claws,he turned towards her and wrapped his hand over hers on the detonator."Come on,volunteers to strong arm him line up on the left,"Enigma taunted,her voice still as level as always. 

The molten hatred in Vector's eyes was enough to make him smile. 

"Clear a path,and don't interfere,"she told him."Or we all die together.And I really wouldn't try and defuse it.Any interference at all,and we have an early Fourth of July." 

"You are a bitch,"Vector growled. 

Enigma gave him a cold,razor blade smile."That's why they hired me." 

With great reluctance,Vector gestured for the soldiers to stand down and move aside,his features twisting in disgust. 

They began moving slowly down the stainless steel corridor,Enigma first with him shadowing her,still holding her hand and the detonator.The soldiers followed,guns and paralyzers raised,pacing them,frustration evident on all their faces. 

As they went towards the rear exit,Vector started talking to him."Do you know what she is,Wolverine?A former terrorist.A murderer." 

"I don't care,"he snapped,not even bothering to look back at him.He really didn't care. The eyes of all those soliders upon him made him itch between the shoulder blades,and he really wanted to tell them to knock it the fuck off,but he doubted it would work. 

"She's your torturer,Wolverine,"Vector said,and the accusation seemed to send a cold shock of fear through his heart. 

"Oh yes,I put that adamantium skeleton in you all by myself,"she replied sarcastically. But he noticed she hadn't exactly denied the accusation. 

Still,it didn't matter right now.He didn't see how they'd get out of this alive,and he didn't know if that was exactly a bad thing.He didn't want to die-he didn't think he did-but he instinctively knew ending up back in these people's custody was a fate worse than death. 

Somehow they made it outside;the sky was a molten orange,casting large black shadows into the open courtyard,almost but not quite hiding the extra soldiers arrayed around them,waiting for them in the darkness. 

"You can let go now,"she whispered to him,her breath coming out is white,vaporous clouds as the temperature plunged rapidly,promising an early frost. 

He studied her face,wondering why-was she that confident they wouldn't make a grab for it?Maybe she was counting on his reflexes being fast enough to prevent such a thing.Something inside him told him he couldn't trust her;he could never trust her.But he assumed she had a plan to get them out,since she seemed to have prepared for every other contingency,and carefully removed his hand from hers. 

"I'm sorry you'll survive,"she said,and let go of the detenator. 

The explosion was instantaneous,a roaring wall of force and heat that seemed to throw him at half the speed of light,the sudden violent shove blacking out his vision but doing little to the rest of his consciousness.He felt himself falling through the air,felt the violent impact with a tree branch (or trunk?) that snapped in half on impact and did little to slow his forward moment as he hit the ground hard,rolling across jagged rocks that tore at his clothes and his flesh like knives before he finally came to a stop,laying face down on the cool,hard ground,and finally had a welcome moment of peace. 

But only a moment. 

It all returned to him in a flush of heat and noise,and when he opened his eyes,he thought maybe he had been out longer than he thought,as the darkness was almost total.But when he shoved himself up to a sitting position,his entire body aching as he continued to heal from what felt like a thousand blows,he saw the thick black smoke from the burning remains of the lab was blanketing the sky,creating a false night.He had been thrown clear,about thirty feet away,and as he staggered to his feet,he noticed all the bodies around him,cast aside like broken dolls.A few may have still been breathing,but he didn't bother to check;they'd be dead soon enough. 

Some of the bodies close to the lab were burning,some already charred black from the high temperature of the incendiary bomb,which had probably vaporized whatever poor bastards were inside at the time of detonation.But at least it had been a quick death. 

Still,the scent of burning flesh and rendered fat was cloying,almost nauseating,nearly overpowering the smoldering chemical scent of the lab,from which gouts of flame as tall as two story houses continued to vomit up towards the blackened sky.They cast shadows that jittered across the ground like scared animals,and allowed him to see Enigma,laying on the ground barely five feet from him. 

She was laying on her side,one leg bent at an unnatural angle,and as he approached her,he saw a gleaming white fragment of bone jutting through her skin near her elbow;he wasn't sure she was still alive until he kneeled beside her and put his hand on her throat.He felt her pulse jumping beneath her skin,her heartbeat increasingly irratic as the space between shallow breaths seemed to lengthen-she was dying.Since it didn't matter,he propped her up,her head resting on his knees, and said,"Enigma.Enigma,can you hear me?" 

Her eyes fluttered open weakly,and she coughed up blood that oozed down her chin as she looked up at him,although he was relatively certain she couldn't focus on him.Maybe he should say something profound,or even kind,but nothing came to mind.He said the only thing that popped into his aching head:"Who am I?" 

He was aware some of the movement at the edge of his vision wasn't just flame cast shadows,but soldiers who had been a sufficient distance away from the blast to have not been harmed.But he didn't care,and wouldn't care until he had an answer. 

He thought he wouldn't get one as she closed her eyes again,but then she said,in a long,exhaled breath:"Logan." 

Something hit him in the back.Sharp as an arrow,it sent a current through his body and he tasted electricity in his mouth before he pitched face first onto the ground,trying to move but unable to as men surrounded him and his body felt like lead,refusing to obey even the meagerest commands. 

But even as his consciousness spiraled back down into darkness,he clung to the one thing he knew was his,that they could never take away from him again. 

Logan-his name was Logan. 

PRESENT DAY 

    The oily man and his mysterious driver drove him to yet another large,brightly lit building,which just pissed Wolverine off:he could feel the tension building inside his muscles,and this not doing anything but waiting was driving him bugfuck-he needed to get out there and hurt something, damn it. 

As soon as the man lead him to an elevator in the underground parking garage,he knew something was wrong.What the hell were those smells?Something in his mind branded them inhuman,but if they weren't human,what the hell were they?Some weird ass mutants then,who just didn't smell very human anymore.  



	5. Part 5

The elevator disgorged them in a brightly lit corridor,the walls an impossibly pristine white,the carpets a mellow,muted butterscotch.He could hear the sounds of keyboards in use,the squeak of chairs,and phones being answered,but all far away,in a cross corridor that seemed to be farther away than logic would dictate.But considering how strongly the strange mutant smells lingered here,merging with the scent of many humans,coffee,and...sulphur(?),he had a feeling logic had been left far behind him. 

He was led into a large office,which seemed to have too much oak paneling for its own good,and was dominated by a large polished desk,behind which a huge window wall showed off an impressive slice of the Los Angeles skyline. 

An older man-human,by the smell of him-swiveled in his direction,and as he sat back in his large leather chair,he gave him a phony smile,and said,in an exaggeratedly friendly tone,"Welcome to Wolfram and Hart,Wolverine." 

He sneered at the man,instantly not trusting him."Yeah,whatever-where's Vector?Enigma?What's the deal?" 

The man,who had severely combed back silver grey hair and a strange tautness around the face that suggested plastic surgery,smiled at the oily man behind Wolverine's shoulder."Shrike did well,"he said smugly. 

That name almost sounded familiar."I'm not Shrike."He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched more than by these two men.He glanced over at the small but obviously well stocked bar on the left side of the room:there was a mirror behind it,and he was willing to bet the tattered clothes on his back (hey-how did that happen?) it was two way,and they-well,he-was being observed.He gave his own reflection the finger. 

A hidden door in the left wall opened,and another smarmy,dark suited man came in,giving him a bitter smirk (for the finger,probably)."Welcome back,Wolverine.You've been gone too long." 

Something about this felt all wrong;he wanted to talk to Enigma,or even Vector,but he had this niggling feeling that something awful had happened to them. 

"What the hell's my mission?I'm not here to socialize."He spat impatiently,crossing his arms over his chest.What had happened to him?Not only were his clothes torn,but he could smell his own blood on them.The three men either didn't notice or didn't care,or both. 

"Can I get you a drink?"The new man asked,deftly inserting himself behind the bar.He was younger than the guy behind the desk,but older than the oily guy behind him,and his short black hair gleamed like the pelt of some exotic animal.He instinctively didn't trust him. 

"I'll have a beer."He felt like he could use one.One case,in fact. 

"The one thing we don't have.How about a Scotch?"Mr. Black said,possibly attempting to be charming. 

He shrugged.He didn't like Scotch,but it was alcohol,so he wasn't going to complain. 

"How do you feel,Wolverine?"The man asked,pouring Scotch into two glasses that matched the crystal decanter the amber liquid was in,making him wonder if it was indeed Scotch or something else entirely. 

Not that he cared.He was Wolverine-he was immune to whatever shit they could throw at him. 

"Pissed off.What the fuck is this shit?Do you have a mission for me,or do I just walk?" 

Mr. Black gave him that smarmy smile again,the one he wanted to rip off his face."I do have a mission for you.Mister Matheson,would you please show him the dossier?" 

The man behind the desk opened a drawer and removed a file from it,which he promptly threw on his desk.Mr. Black came over,holding both glasses,and held one out to him.It smelled like Scotch,so he grabbed the glass,downed it in a single gulp,and gave him the crystal tumbler back.Black looked vaguely stunned. 

"Target twenty two,"the man called Matheson said,opening the file.He took out a glossy photo,and held it up:it was a head shot of an unremarkable man with well defined features,his cheekbones looking as sharp as razor blades beneath caramel colored skin,his eyes lazy and bright blue. "He needs to be terminated immediately,"Black said,placing the empty glass back on the bar."He's at a penthouse downtown that is not easily accessible,and he has several mutant bodyguards." 

Wolverine shrugged."Big fuckin' deal.What's the address?" 

Matheson held out a folded piece of paper,and as he took it,he heard the oily man whisper to Black,"Why didn't you just use the code word in the first place?" 

"The code alone wasn't enough,"Black whispered back."It needs a 'push' to overcome the core personality,according to Enigma's salvaged notes." 

"Enigma?"He repeated,turning to face the startled oily guy and cool Black."Where is she?"He couldn't shake the feeling something bad had happened to her. 

"You don't remember?She was a traitor.She killed several of her compatriots and herself in an aborted terrorist attack.She nearly killed you."Black replied evenly. 

Part of that sounded right,but another part of it sounded deeply false.But he figured he'd think about it later. 

Right now,he had a target to destroy. 

    8 

    Angel hated waiting in the car while the others did he leg work,but frankly,he was lucky to drive.  
He knew Logan had sharp claws,but honestly he had had no idea until now;how did he never accidentally cut himself with those things? 

Come to think of it,he probably did.He just healed so fast it didn't matter. 

Angel wished he healed that fast.He wasn't actively bleeding now,save for a slight oozing,but he'd probably have the holes in his back and chest for at least another day.Logan was lethal-Wolverine was even worse,which hadn't seemed possible until now. 

A Logan without a conscience could cause an untold amount of devastation.He didn't want to kill him-honestly,he didn't think he could,short of strapping an explosive to him-but they had to stop him before he hurt anyone else,and figure out a way to get him back. 

Part of that was figuring out what had happened to him in the first place,and finding out where he had gone.What could have happened to him?Brain damage? 

"Any luck?"He asked,as Cordelia and Gunn came back to the GTX. 

She shook her head and got in the passenger seat as Gunn hopped into the back."Nobody's seen a guy with Englebert Humperdink's sideburns,"Gunn reported."And I'm sure they'd have remembered if they had." 

"Those government dickheads have him,I know it,"Cordelia insisted,scowling darkly.Although he had scared her badly back at the Hyperion,she was deeply concerned for Logan,which made Angel wonder if Electra wasn't the only woman attracted to him.What was it about Logan?He was so hairy and scruffy looking,and talk about an attitude problem!He gave off a major "leave me the fuck alone" vibe.Did women find 'hard to get' that attractive?He was hard to get too! 

"How?"Gunn countered."He walked out of his own accord." 

"Bad news,"Wesley said,returning to the car.He frowned seeing Cordelia in 'his' seat,but since she didn't care,he got into the back seat beside Gunn. 

"No one saw him,"Angel guessed,reaching for the keys to start the car.Maybe on the next block. 

"No,he was seen,all right,"Wesley replied."He was seen getting into a car with a man who,quote, "Looked like a lawyer". " 

Angel dropped his hand,and twisted in his seat to look at him directly.Cordelia did the same thing."Wolfram and Hart?"Angel said,feeling his stomach lurch at the very idea.Oh shit. 

"Whoa,wait a minute,"Gunn said,making an impatient gesture with his hand."What would they want with small,dark and hairy?And why would he go with them?" 

"Those government assholes hired them to find him,"Cordy said,sounding remarkably sure of herself. 

"Doesn't explain what happened to him,"Gunn countered."They didn't throw some mojo on him."He paused briefly."Did they?" 

"What do you mean small?"Cordy asked him."Logan isn't small." 

Angel decided he didn't want to know what that was referencing,and concentrated on Gunn's question."It's not necessarily beyond them.Wolfram and Hart have lots of connections." 

"It was Shrike,"Wesley said. 

"What?"Angel asked. 

"He's dead,"Cordy replied."Electra made him a crispy critter." 

Wesley sat forward,his eyes bright with inspiration;whenever Wesley finally solved a puzzle,he always looked like that."Now he's dead.But while he was alive he planted false memories in Logan's mind.What if he planted more?" 

"Like what?"Gunn wondered,following his thought but looking as confused as Angel felt. 

Wesley shook his head,but was clearly brainstorming."A...subliminal suggestion?" 

"A subliminal suggestion to go psycho?Is that even possible?"Gunn asked,throwing the question out for anyone. 

Before Angel could opine he didn't think so,Wesley replied,"Not psycho-a subliminal suggestion to bring forth a second personality." 

"Are you saying Logan has a split personality?"Cordelia asked him,wrinkling her nose in disgust. 

"Well,you can't deny he has suffered severe trauma,"Wesley argued. 

"But usually that only happens to people who have childhood traumas,"Angel pointed out."Adults simply survive or end up broken."He felt like he was speaking from experience. 

"Ah hell.The Manchurian Candidate,"Gunn suddenly exclaimed. 

"Huh?"Cordy replied. 

"You never saw The Manchurian Candidate?"Wesley asked her,and now he sounded disgusted."How could you not?It's a classic-" 

"Brainwashing,"Angel said,clarifying for her as well as thinking aloud."From what little he told you,Cordelia,it's clear they tortured him,and from the way he acts,he was probably tortured more than he'd ever admit,and for a long time.They probably got sick of trying to force him to comply,so they simply coerced him into doing what they wanted another way." 

"What do you mean the way he acts?"Cordelia wondered,sounding slightly defensive. 

Angel tried to think of a way to put it tactfully."Scared.He acts scared;he doesn't trust anyone,and probably for damn good reasons."He knew she was going to argue with him,but before she could,he added,"Being the first to fight often means you're afraid of what will happen if you don't.But I'm not criticizing Logan-I don't know how he survived.In his position,I'm not sure I could have,or would have wanted to." 

"Didn't you go to Hell?"Gunn asked. 

Angel shrugged a single shoulder,glancing at Gunn in the rearview,which was really stupid,because neither he or Gunn could see the reflection of his eyes."From the sound of it,so did Logan." 

"Okay,let's say he was brainwashed somehow,"Cordelia said."How did Shrike change him,and how do we change him back?" 

That was a puzzler.Before he could say they needed to find him first,Cordy grabbed her head,and hissed,"Oh shit." 

She slammed back against the seat,gasping in pain,as the new vision hit her. 

    Cordelia felt the warning signs only seconds before the vision hit:it was like a sudden static charge building up behind her eyes before it exploded,and it felt like it took half her brain with it. 

But it was a quick vision,and sped past her like a bullet train.She found herself in a dark apartment...no,it was too big for an apartment...a suite,a penthouse...and in spite of the pain she couldn't help but notice the awesome view of the Los Angeles skyline from the suite's window wall;she could see the tops of several buildings like neon spires,and she wondered briefly who could afford something above the smog line...but then she saw the man.Not bad looking,but kind of plain in a swarthy sort of way,and he seemed unaware that he was not alone.But Cordelia knew he was far from alone.Especially when she watched him walk through his darkened living room,and a shape appeared behind him,a dark shape she could not make out...until the shadow suddenly grew claws.Claws that glinted silver from the half light seeping in through the window.... 

Reality roared back in like a tsunami,and as she grabbed her throbbing head,she hissed through clenched teeth,"Logan,shit." 

"What?Is he in trouble?"Wesley asked.She could feel him grab the back of her seat,and smelled his aftershave as he leaned forward,but right now it was almost nauseating.Her head felt like a throbbing wound full of molten lava,and she just wanted to find a nice,quiet place to lay down and go comatose for a while.But that seemed far from realistic now. 

"In a manner of speaking.He's going to kill a guy in Holt Towers,top floor."She sank down in her seat as low as she could without sliding onto the floor,wondering if Angel would knock her out if she asked him nicely. 

Angel quickly started the car,and searched frantically for an opening in the traffic. 

"What are we supposed to do about it?"Gunn suddenly interjected."Can't he kill each and every one of us?" 

"Well,"Angel started,and instantly stopped.He couldn't think of a single thing to say.But,in a burst of inspiration,he asked,"Wesley,did you throw one of your spell books in the trunk?" 

"For use against the Berserker,yes,"he replied warily."Why?" 

Before they had gone off on their Logan hunt,they had loaded the trunk with heavy duty weapons in case they encountered the Berserker.Which was yet another happy thought to add to the pile.  
"Maybe you could cast a spell on Logan.Freeze him,knock him out,something." 

"I'm not sure that would work.I brought the Book of Uluhtc." 

"Did you just choke?"Cordelia wondered.It sounded like it. 

"So?"Gunn replied."What's so special about that book?" 

"It's supposed to only work on demons." 

"What about hitting him with that staff thingy?"She said,trying to remember everything they stashed in the trunk."If you hit him really hard,you can knock him out." 

Angel gave her a sidelong glance that verged on pissy."He has an adamantium skull." 

"I didn't say it would be easy,"she countered,not ready to admit,in retrospect,it was indeed a crappy idea. 

"Well,you'll have to try something,Wesley,"Angel said,finally pulling out into traffic."Because I have to try and stop him.Even if it kills me." 

    9 

    Wolverine smelled the first mutant loitering in the alley outside the upscale apartment building,and he was one of those inhuman smelling ones.He looked it too;he was one of the ugliest mutants he had ever seen,and he'd seen some beauts. 

It was maybe a meter and a half tall and built like a outhouse,with warty grey-black skin the texture of fungus infected tree bark,and a bulbous head that continued the general warty theme of his body.Wolverine simply punched him and took him down-he looked tougher than he was,like most people-but he wiped his hand off frantically on the leg of his jeans afterwards,because its skin felt disgusting.It was flaky on top while underneath it was squishy,like a sodden sponge.It felt like just making contact with the thing had contaminated him. 

Afterwards he walked into the lobby-after slicing through the coded lock that prevented non-residents from entering the building-and,encountering no resistance,took the elevator up to the highest floor. 

But there was a slight problem:the elevator only went up to the twenty first floor.To access the two higher penthouse levels,you needed a key,and slicing it with his claws was not going to do the job. 

Looking around the brightly lit,aggressively beige elevator,he saw the emergency trap door in the ceiling,just slightly out of his reach.He jumped for it as he popped his claws,snagging the door and ripping it off like so much cardboard.After that,it was a simple case of tossing it aside for the maintainence workers to find and grabbing the edge of the opening with his fully extended claws,pulling himself up onto to the roof of the moving elevator.He crouched on the edge,riding it like a surfboard as it made its way up to the twenty first floor. 

He looked up the darkened shaft,only to find an occasional pinpoint of a yellow safety light,making the cable look like mutant jungle vines as thick as his arms.There were no access ladders,only smooth metal walls with an occasional indent for no apparent reason,and the top of the shaft seemed to go on forever.He couldn't see the end. 

Maybe he'd just have to find it. 

As soon as the elevator came to a full stop he went to the nearest side wall,dug in his claws,and started to climb up the elevator shaft. 

It was slower going than he would have liked,but his claws could shred the steel wall to pieces if he wasn't careful,and he forgot to wear his mountain climbing boots,assuming he had any.So he had to move carefully,bracing his feet against the wall as he dug one claw in,then the other, making a slow but steady ascent. 

When the elevator started back down,the rumbling in the walls nearly making his claws slice more deeply through the metal,but he was able to hang on gently until the rumble could be barely felt,the elevator ten to twenty feet below him. 

So much for the mutant bodyguard presence-where were they?Probably waiting on the penthouse level.Mister Paranoid.Well,for good reason,as it turned out. 

As he climbed level with the door of the twenty second floor,he suddenly had the strangest memory-a cold day,and something falling.He wasn't sure what it was;it was a black handle grip with a red switch on top,dropping from someone's hand.It made him think of Enigma,but he wasn't sure why.And why did that just occur to him now? 

Maybe it was just that those guys back at that place-Wolfram and Hart,or whatever-just didn't seem right.Yes,they had an Organization guy,they knew the codes,but they were so fucking oily.Even worse then most of the Org people he occasionally had to deal with.The only reason he liked Enigma-well,like was too strong a word-was that she wasn't oily:slicker than shit at times,forever cryptic,but never greasy.She'd have hated those guys's fucking guts. 

So what had happened to her?Was Org man actually telling the truth?In all honesty,she could have been a traitor-you couldn't trust people at all,could you?Especially those who chose to remain inscrutable. 

But he kept seeing that thing fall in his mind,and it gave him a bad taste in his mouth.Something had happened to her,all right,but they weren't telling the truth. 

So how did he know that anything they told him real? 

Ah hell,everything was pointless and full of shit anyways;therefore nothing mattered.Truth and lie often depended on what side of the statement you were on,and he really couldn't give a flying fuck either way. 

Rather than force the doors apart,he sliced an opening in the door and slipped through it,onto the darkened twenty second floor.He smelled the mutant human bodyguards,who weren't yet aware of his presence,and smirked as he stalked forward,down the blackened corridor. 

This was the part he liked the most:kicking ass. 

    Angel knew Wolverine had preceded him,not only due to the faint smell of him lingering in the still,warm air,but the unconscious (almost comatose) Guldar demon in the alley beside the building,and the expertly slashed and gutted security panel and camera beside the door.He just hoped he wasn't too far ahead of him. 

In the elevator,he saw someone had ripped the hatch off the emergency door in the ceiling (he only needed one guess to figure out who did that),and wondered why until he saw the elevator went up to the twenty first floor.Cordy said the man lived on the top floor.So,Logan had...climbed up the elevator shaft?Oh wonderful.It was probably too late to mention that he had a slight fear of heights,but he doubted Logan would have given a crap,even if he was completely himself. 

He jumped up,grabbing the edges of the hatchway and pulling himself up onto the roof of the elevator before it came to a stop,and in the relative darkness of the shaft he saw neat,three pronged puncture marks in the steel wall in the right.It wasn't hard to tell Logan had been here. 

But Angel didn't have handy claws,and he hadn't thought to bring his grappling hook either,and the holes Logan had left were not adequate for him to use as handholds.So,he was going to have to shinny up the elevator cables until he was level with the twenty second floor elevator doors, wasn't he? 

Sometimes his job sucked beyond the telling of it. 

Angel began climbing the cable hand over hand,regretting the fact that he had never thought to wear a cup as he began to pull himself up the thick black cables,wrapping himself around them as the elevator began its descent.He watched,almost rapt with fascination,as the elevator slowly fell away beneath him...and fell some more...and more,until he could barely see it at all,even with his night vision.Who knew elevator shafts could be so high...or so deep? 

He shook his head,closed his eyes,and forced himself to continuing going upward.He'd been in higher places-hell,he'd jumped off buildings and hung from helicopters.This was nothing in comparison. 

Maybe it was just the general tomb like atmosphere;it was like a metal mausoleum,claustrophobic and far too open at the same time.He could picture dying in here quite easily,although he knew the fall would never kill him.It would just leave him crushed,spindled,and slightly mutilated,and since climbing up the cables was opening up the claw wounds in his chest again,he didn't really feel like any more pain right now. 

And he was going to go fight Logan.Oh,this night kept getting better and better.What was going to happen next-he'd be pelted with flaming arrows? 

He was quietly snarling by the time he had climbed level to the elevator doors,which Logan had conveniently slashed a nice big opening in,so he braced himself and lunged at the opening.At the last second he remembered that,since he hadn't been invited,he might hit an invisible barrier and plunge several stories down to the elevator below.Nice of you to think of that now, he mentally cursed himself as he desperately grabbed for the tear in the door. 

He caught it,almost ripping open his palms on the sharp edge Logan had left behind,and since he wasn't repelled,he figured he wasn't close enough to the penthouse entrance to be thrown back.Yet. 

Angel braced his feet against the shaft wall as best he could,reaching a questing hand inside,prepared to be propelled back...but he felt nothing but conditioned air (a welcome change from the stuffy air in the shaft) and a soft carpet.What the hell..? 

Of course-the man wasn't human.Or completely human,at any rate.Cordy hadn't mentioned that, but she obviously hadn't known that fact.And neither could Logan.So what did he encounter up here? 

Angel pulled himself through,and even before he stood up all the way,he smelled the blood. 

No lights were on,but he could clearly see the fallen bodies lining the posh foyer:there were seven in all,from the front to the back of the foyer,where a body propped open what appeared to be some sort of access stairwell.Many had significant claw wounds,but since the majority of the fallen were serpentine Shessik demons,they'd recover,albeit slowly.One of the 'guards' was a vampire by the smell,and while she hadn't been skewered,the size of the bruise on her head,taking up roughly half her face,suggested she wouldn't be getting up any time soon.He pondered staking her,but considering she'd probably be out until next Tuesday,he figured it didn't matter.What did matter was stopping Logan before he could become an inadvertent murderer for Wolfram and Hart. 

Angel just wished to god he knew how he was supposed to do that. 

    10 

    Energized from the bracing but brief fight on the lower level,Wolverine crept quietly up the stairs and into the upper level,which seemed to be the main living area of the suite. 

Those had been bodyguards?Shit-pathetic.He could have beaten them half drunk and tied to a tree. 

It was mostly dark up here too,although he heard faint,muffled humming and smelled yet another inhuman mutant.He hoped it was pathetic bodyguard number eight,because he could use the laugh. 

He moved quietly through the empty,darkened kitchen,and into the impossibly large living room,which had muted,indirect light thanks to the open curtains,letting light pollution bleed in through the front window wall.In the half light,he could see sparse but expensive furniture,a carpet too plush for words,and crystals in a glass hutch on the far side of the room that glittered like ice. 

He spotted the target across the room,his back still to him,humming as he poured himself a drink at the bar.He wondered how he could do that,but then he figured it was probably part of his mutation-seeing in the dark (or at least really dim light).Wouldn't be enough to save him,though. 

The thick carpet easily muffled his footsteps as he crossed the room,and the man continued fixing himself an elaborate cocktail,happily humming..."The Girl From Ipanema"?He deserved to die just for that. 

"Logan,don't do it,"a familiar voice said behind him. 

The target jumped,dropping his glass as the humming stopped abruptly,and Wolverine spun to see the pretty boy thug from the hotel standing in the living room entryway.How the hell...he'd killed him!Maybe that was his mutation:he healed fast enough to take a claw in the heart and still keep breathing. 

"I keep telling you that's not my name,asshole,"he growled,popping his claws.So he could take a claw in the heart-could he survive a decapitation?Maybe his body would run around like a chicken's with its head cut off. 

"Who the hell are you people?!"The target demanded,sounding equal parts angry and terrified. 

"Get the hell out of here now,"thug lite growled at him."He's here to kill you." 

"Spoil the surprise,"Wolverine growled,turning back towards the target. 

The target stared at his claws,wide eyed in fear,and leaped over the teak,horseshoe shaped bar as Wolverine lunged for him.The thug crashed into Wolverine's back,taking him down onto the carpet. 

Wolverine bucked the guy off and instantly got to his feet,slashing at him,but he only slashed the air where he had been a second before.The thug wasn't so dumb-he moved fast. 

"Think,Wolverine.What's the last thing you remember before you woke up in the hotel?"The thug said,taking refuge behind an overstuffed armchair in the corner. 

Wolverine glanced behind himself,but either the target was hiding behind the bar,or he had fled the room.Goddamn it!Well,he'd get him later then-no one escaped Wolverine and lived to tell about it. 

"Trying to stall,pretty boy?"He growled at the thug,pacing slowly towards him to give him a false sense of security. 

"You don't know,do you?"The man continued.He appeared implacable,but Wolverine could smell his blood;he was still bleeding from the earlier claw wounds."Fifteen years gone-or is it more than fifteen?Seventeen?Twenty?You don't know at all.Why is that?Have you asked yourself where you've been all these years?" 

The questions seemed to get under his skin,and he could feel his blood boil in response.He didn't want to hear this;he didn't want to think about it."On vacation,"he snarled,leaping for him with his claws extended. 

The thug kicked the chair at him,and it hit him hard in the gut as the coward darted across the room,obviously trying to avoid him at all costs.Apparently he learned from the hotel incident.  
Wolverine slashed the chair,shattering the back and frame,and kicked the remains away as he stalked towards him. 

"Is that all you've got?"Wolverine chided. 

The thug was backed up in a corner by an end table,and Wolverine expected him to grab the lamp and try and hit him with it any second now."Come on,Wolverine,are you blindly obedient?You just take orders from your handler and you don't ask why?" 

"I don't have a handler anymore,"he snapped,only realizing that was the truth as it fell out of his mouth.Enigma was really gone,and he knew it.But how did he know it?He couldn't remember,he just kept seeing that thing fall,as if in slow motion,towards the ground."And I don't give a fuck what they tell me as long as I get to kill something." 

"Even if they're using you?You're their meat puppet-they're pulling your strings,and you're letting them,because you were programmed to do so." 

Wolverine snarled at him as he charged,lashing out with his claw in preparation for the lamp,but pretty boy surprised him by picking up the table and smashing him with it.He caught part of it with his claw,but the rest shattered on the side of his head and made him stagger back as he tried to dodge him again. Wolverine moved in spite of he sudden pain and kicked out,tripping him.He hit the ground rolling,but Wolverine snagged him with his right claw and lifted him to his feet by his coat lapel."Cute,"he told him,as he drove his left claw straight through his stomach. "But not good enough,bub." 

    11 

    They saw the hole in the top of the elevator as soon as they entered,and it was easy to guess what had happened as they began their slow ascent towards the highest accessible floor. 

"Okay,"Gunn said,glancing up through the hole."So Logan has the claws and can do that,but Angel ain't exactly Spiderman.How did he climb up the shaft?" 

"Well,vampires can jump pretty high,"Cordy opined,sounding somewhat doubtful. 

"He can jump a story up?"He asked her,frowning. 

"Well,what's your bright idea?"She countered,the tension making her snappish. 

Wesley couldn't blame her.His stomach felt as tight as a fist,and if this desperation ploy didn't work,Angel was completely on his own with a sociopathic Wolverine,who could probably kill him without breaking a sweat. 

And this hardly qualified as a long shot;it was a blind stab in the dark.But he knew they had to do something,and running after Angel would only guarantee a very bloody death for them all,as much as he didn't want to admit it.And then Logan might be lost for good,which would be one tragedy on top of another. 

"Let's get started,"he said,as he finished drawing the chalk circle on the floor of the elevator, which the densely matted carpet actually made easier than he anticipated. 

The three of them stepped inside of it,and Gunn sniffed the smudge stick he was able to find in the bag in the truck Angel referred to as the 'random ritual kit' (although Wesley had no idea he carried around the powdered bones of powerful Ylsarii demos-where he had gotten that?)."Why does this remind me of an Italian restaurant?"He wondered,reaching in his coat pocket for his  lighter. 

"It's rosemary,"Wesley replied,holding the silver sigil of Minerva tightly in his hands. 

"Well,at least it won't be too stinky,"Cordelia said,placing the stone they had found (after long searching) in the center of the circle.She then opened the bottle of cheap red wine she had run off to buy from a convenience store on the corner,and asked him,"And this is necessary because..?" 

"It symbolizes blood,"he said,expecting the look of disgust she gave him in reply. 

"At least it's not the real thing,"Gunn pointed out,lighting the rosemary smudge stick."And we can drink the leftover part afterwards,too." 

"True,"she agreed,nodding. 

There was nothing helpful in the Book of Uluhtc,which Wesley had expected,but he remembered something he had scanned earlier,when trying to figure out what had happened to Icara and Logan.It was technically a spell to reverse the thrall of a telepathic Pserin demon,but it didn't explicitly mention a Pserin,and he thought perhaps it could be useful in removing anything telepathically implanted.He just hoped it,one,worked,and two,he remembered it correctly.But he had read it because he thought it might be helpful,and the ritual itself was so simple he wondered if it was a typo. 


	6. Part 6

Since they couldn't go all the way up to the twenty third floor,Wesley hit the emergency stop button as soon as the elevator hit the twenty first floor.As rosemary smoke began curling up ,filling the elevator and wafting through the hole in the ceiling,he nodded to Cordy,who poured a generous splash of wine over the rock as he began reciting,in Latin,"Minerva,goddess of wisdom, here my plea and lift the veil from his eyes-" It was then that the elevator lurched and started moving upward. 

"Was that supposed to happen?"Gunn asked. 

"Someone's called the lift from the top floor,"Wesley replied,as he saw the floor buttons light up anew. 

"The guy Angel's supposed to save?"Cordelia ventured hopefully."Angel?" 

"Or Logan,"Gunn said darkly. 

The three of them exchanged a serious,wary glance before Cordy splashed a bit more wine on the rock and Wesley began reciting the spell with renewed force.Because if it was Wolverine,they were so very,very dead. 

    Angel couldn't help but utter a breathless scream as Logan's claws punched through him again,this time puncturing his stomach before exploding out his back,but even as it happened,he realized that's where he'd have to get Logan.The stomach and the chest;wherever there was enough padding-muscle,fat,both-that Logan would absorb the blows more than his adamantium skeleton would. 

Logan glared at him straight in the eyes,his upper lip curled in an animalistic snarl,and even in the darkness,Angel saw the emptiness in his eyes;thinking of him as Logan was completely wrong,because he was no longer in there.No,he probably was somewhere,he just wasn't in the driver's seat anymore.His eyes were perfectly blue now too,no longer tinged with green,and he distantly wondered if that meant anything as he braced himself for the pain and kneed Logan (no,Wolverine) in the groin. 

As he doubled over,yanking his claws farther down but retracting them slightly,Angel swallowed a scream as he felt himself morph into vamp face from the pain and repeatedly kneed Wolverine in the stomach.He his claw out of him as Angel grabbed the back of Wolverine's head and smashed his face straight into his upraised knee,breaking his nose with a vicious,audible crack.The pain of impact shuddered down Angel's leg,and he stumbled away as Wolverine also staggered back,and Angel idly wondered if he had dislocated his kneecap on Wolverine's face. 

As soon as Angel put his full weight on the leg,the shock of pain that ran through him was electric,and he revised his thinking.He hadn't just dislocated his kneecap,he may have broken the goddamn thing. 

Logan straightened up,actually growling this time,flashing his human yet still intimidating canines,and as Angel watched,the cartilidge of his nose straightened itself out and started healing itself,blood barely having time to flow out his nostrils before it slowed to a trickle and stopped altogether. 

Logan did a slight double take as he saw his vampire face (and Wolverine hadn't seen it before,although Logan,the real one,had),and said,"You're an ugly motherfucker,aren't you?But I like the teeth-I could make a necklace out of that." 

He started stalking towards him again,claws still out and at his sides,but he now had the rounded shoulders and lowered head of a predator moving in for the kill. Angel had no doubt at all he both had the desire and ability to do it. 

He backed up,favoring his left leg as his knee seemed to scream with each step,and Wolverine just smiled,in no hurry to finish off what he obviously saw as easy prey.Angel knew Logan was capable of swift movement,swifter than your average human,but he was toying with him,savoring the moment before the kill like any vampire.And Angel loathed feeling helpless-he was a vampire,damn it,he should kick anyone's ass!Except a Slayer's,potentially...and,apparently,a human mutant's with a metal skeleton and knives in his hands. 

Angel backed right into the glass case full of crystals as Logan continued to leer at him."End of the road,Chester,"he taunted,and rather than use his claws,he kicked out with his foot. 

Angel hadn't been prepared for that and it caught him off guard.He took the foot in the stomach and smashed through the case,the glass shattering and slicing into his skin at a thousand different angles as he and its metal frame hit the floor,the crystals digging into his back on impact. 

Wolverine chuckled low in his throat,looming over him."I've had too many easy kills.What's say I have some fun first?" 

It took all his strength for Angel to rear up on his glass cut hands and kick out with both feet,hitting Logan square in the stomach.Angel couldn't quite swallow the scream as the pain seemed to explode through his leg on impact,but Logan hadn't expected his prey to do that and was caught equally unaware:he flew back three feet and fell through a stone mosaic coffee table,which seemed to explode under him,unable to take the weight of so much metal. 

But Logan was back on his feet instantly,continuing to snarl,as Angel rolled over to the teak dining room table opposite the bar,and grabbed one of its thick,carved legs,hoping to pull himself to his feet. 

But Logan brought down his leg in a perfect scissor kick and shattered the heavy table,making it collapse partially on Angel's head as he quickly rolled aside,trying to avoid further squashing. 

"I hate fucking cowards,"Logan growled."Take it like a man,you-" 

Logan suddenly stopped,and as Angel used the wall to pull himself back up to his feet,he saw him wince and shake his head as if trying to clear it. 

"What is it,Logan?"He asked,wiping the blood from his mouth with the sleeve of his now tattered coat.Angel wanted nothing more than to collapse in a fetal position and pass out for about a day and a half,but he had to be ready to defend himself against further attacks if need be.How he had no idea,since he couldn't stand up on his own. 

But he had learned something;Logan wasn't just a street fighter.It was his preferred method of fighting,but that kick was pure martial art.And the more he thought about it,fighting with those claws was probably like fighting with a short sword.If he didn't want to accidentally slice himself,passers by,or other objects into ribbons,Logan had learned how to fight with them.But he probably didn't know when or how himself. 

"That's not my name,"he growled,looking up at him.Logan took a step forward,but he stopped and grabbed his head,as if in pain."Shit!"He cursed,still trying to shake it off. 

"What?Logan,tell me what's going on.Do you know who you are?"Angel sincerely hoped he did,or he was about to become a pile of dust on a carpet that would be impossible to clean. 

    Wolverine winced as he felt a pain deep inside his brain,like someone had jabbed an ice pick through his skull,and he felt something odd move through his mind,like a thief stealing through his brain. 

And he suddenly saw,in his mind's eye- 

-Shrike grinning up at him with bloody teeth,giggling maniacally,saying,"You're a killing machine, Wolverine,"- 

-the black handle grip falling slowly towards the ground- 

-light filtering in through a sickly green substance;as tepid and fluid as water,but too thick to be that.An oxygen mask clamped over his face kept him from drowning,and he tried frantically to move,but could not;he was paralyzed.He saw figures in surgical gowns standing around him, wavering like ghosts through the ichor green liquid,and he felt the cold metal of a scalpel slice into his thigh,his blood erupting in a dark plume that clouded the thick fluid around him as he screamed inside his mind,wanting to lash out but unable to move - 

-Enigma's voice,telling him,"And if you remember only one thing I ever taught you,let it be this:always keep going.A moving target is harder to hit."- 

-the black grip falling again,released from someone's hand- 

-a man,approaching him in the parking lot of a bar,snow frosting the ground and twinkling in the starlight."Are you Logan?"The man,a thick necked goon with a pinched face asked,taking a drag off a cigarette butt. 

"Who wants to know?"He asked,paranoia putting him on alert.He could hear two other men emerge  from behind parked cars,each one bigger than the last,and flanking him as he tried to back away from there. 

The three struck then,diving for him.He punched the pinch faced goon-he had a glass jaw and went down like a ton of bricks-but one of the other goons grabbed him from behind while the other jabbed something in his neck.It was sharp and electric,and it shot through him like a lightning bolt,turning his knees to jelly as he collapsed to the cold cement- 

-the handle grip falling again,only this time he saw it was falling from Enigma's hand,and he heard her say,"I'm sorry you'll survive,"- 

-lights were shone in his eyes,as bright as spotlights,and while he wanted to close his eyes he couldn't,something was keeping them open,and he felt pinpricks of pain as he was jabbed with needles in several parts of his body;his arms,his legs,his throat.He wanted to curse them,ask what the hell they were doing,but he was pinned like a butterfly to a board,unable to move,to blink,to breathe- 

-looking down into Enigma's face as blood oozed from her mouth as she closed her eyes,her body going limp in his arms,and then she sighed,"Logan," and he knew that was his name- 

Logan stumbled back,dropping to one knee as the pain continued to knife through his head,gasping at pain that was almost more emotional than physical. 

Oh shit,what was happening? 

"Logan,"he heard a familiar voice say."Is that you?" 

He looked up,feeling disoriented and disconnected,and at first he didn't know where he was,or who  the ugly mutant against the far wall was.And why the hell did his balls hurt? 

He did a slight double take,but it was a bloody,beaten Angel in his mutant/'vamp' face.He knew that by smell alone if nothing else. 

"Where the hell are we?"He asked,standing up.His head still felt jammed full of steel wool,but reality seemed to be slowly reasserting itself.And looking around the darkened apartment,he saw broken furniture everywhere,and his claws were out.He retracted them as he added,"What happened?And who kicked me in the balls?" 

Angel sighed as he leaned against the wall,blood continuing to ooze from the corner of his mouth,dribbling down the front of his torn and bloody shirt."It's a long story,but I think we need to get out of here,because we're trespassing.Although...I think I'm just going to have to rest for a second,okay?" 

And with that,Angel's yellow eyes rolled back in his head,and he collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. 

"Oh,fucking great timing,"Logan groused,the ghosts of painful memories still racing through his head as he went to pick Angel up. 

He figured he smelled bloody from the glass cuts-he seemed covered with them-but he notice the uniform holes in the back of his coat,and turned him over onto his back....only to see six very neat holes in his chest and stomach.The three puncture wounds in his chest were older,but had cracked open and were bleeding anew.The ones in his stomach were very fresh though. 

He had clawed Angel?Twice?Why?And why couldn't he remember doing it? 

But then again,he didn't remember how he got here either.And Angel never answered his question about the dickhead who got him in the groin. 

With a disgusted sigh,he grabbed the unconscious Angel and hefted him over shoulder before looking for an exit. 

    Logan found an outer access hallway,a narrow corridor in earth tones,and at the end of it was a private elevator-full of Wesley,Cordelia,and Gunn,with another guy he'd never seen before,who was standing outside the open doors. 

The man turned and saw him,and his eyes widened in fear as he frantically reached in his sports coat pocket and pulled out a gun."Stop right there!I mean it!"The man shouted,aiming a nine millimeter pistol at him.His hand was shaking so bad even if he fired now the bullet would have went wide in this narrow corridor. 

"What the hell have you done to Angel?"Cordelia snapped angrily,glaring at him.She made to step out of the elevator,but Wesley grabbed her arm and stopped her. 

Logan paused,even more confused than before."What the hell is going on?"He exclaimed crossly. "And I didn't do anything to him...well,okay,I did.But I don't remember doing it.And put that gun away before I shove it up your ass and give you a blowhole in the top of your skull." 

Wesley stepped forward tentatively,gazing at him over the top of his wire framed glasses. "Logan?" 

"No,Santa Claus,"he scoffed."Who the hell else would I be?" 

"It could be a trick,"Gunn said warily,eyeing him like a piece of roadside trash. 

"Why are you even talking to him?!"The strange smelling blue eyed man exclaimed,more frightened than angry."He's a killer!" 

"Could you put me down now?This is kind of humiliating,"Angel muttered,his voice barely audible. 

Logan obliged,crouching down and sliding Angel off his shoulder,but Angel had to grab his arm and the nearby wall to stay upright. 

Angel's face was normal now,his glassy eyes brown and his teeth human,but glass still glittered like crushed diamonds in several facial and scalp lacerations,and his face was caked with blood."It's him,Cordy.Whatever you did,Wes,it worked-and just in time too.Good job." 

Wesley smiled at him,although Cordy just looked horrified at the state of Angel.Angel,for his part,just frowned."What's that smell?" 

"Yeah.Smells like a fire at an Italian restaurant,"Logan agreed,wrinkling his nose. 

Gunn tossed a smoldering bundle of twigs to the elevator floor and stamped them out with his foot."Maybe it'll give you a new appreciation for secret herbs and spices,"he deadpanned. 

"What the hell is wrong with you people?!"The stranger demanded,confused about who he should aim the gun at now. 

"He was under a..."Angel began,and hesitated,seemingly unable to finish the sentence. 

"A thrall,"Wesley chimed in."But it has been broken now.He's no threat to you,I promise." 

"Who was under a what?"Logan repeated."What,do you mean me?" 

"What I want to know is how you got your hand on Xerrilian crystals,"Angel said,glaring-well,as best he could in a semi-conscious state-at the stranger. 

"Xerrilian crystals?"Wesley repeated,looking at the stranger in cold shock. 

The stranger looked between him and Angel in a slowly increasing sense of panic."I don't know what you're talking about,"he claimed,lying so blatantly even Gunn,who could only see the back of him,scoffed derisively. 

"What are Xerrilian crystals?"Logan asked.He didn't feel too idiotic for not knowing,because Angel and his not so 'merry men' (and Cordy) often broke down into complete and utter gibberish, although it made a certain sense to them.And Logan remembered some weird,pyramid shaped crystal looking things on the carpet,among all the shattered glass.Maybe that's what Angel was referring to? 

"Actually,they're not crystals at all,"Angel said,attempting to explain."They're the condensed secretions of the rare Xerril demon." 

"And it's a highly addictive substance,"Wesley continued,staring daggers at the stranger,who was still randomly changing the aim of his weapon.He seemed to realize he was in deep shit now. "Especially to humans,who can be enslaved by it." 

"Secretions?"Cordelia repeated,wrinkling her nose in disgust."Oh,that is just sick." 

"Did you screw Wolfram and Hart out of a deal on them,or did you just steal the crystals from them outright?"Angel continued,his anger helping bring him back to full consciousness."Either way is living dangerously,Belial." 

"Belial?"Gunn echoed,rolling his eyes."Oh,I shoulda guessed." 

"You know this jackass?"Logan asked. 

Angel shrugged a single shoulder,never looking away from the guy he called Belial."I know his type." 

Belial's bright blue eyes narrowed to thin slits as he glared back at Angel."Big whoop.You're a vampire who just got his ass kicked by some weird ass human."Belial turned his back to the wall,and aimed the gun more or less at Wes,Cordy,and Gunn in the elevator."Now get out before I start shooting." 

"You aren't doing a damn thing except explaining yourself,"Angel growled,as Wesley hesitated. 

Belial rolled his eyes."You can't even move,vampire.Like I'm going to be afraid-" 

Logan lunged,popping his claws at the last second and slicing the gun clean in half,just missing taking his hand with it by a half inch.Belial flattened himself against the wall,reeking with fear,as the rest of the sentence fell out of his mouth:"-of you." 

Logan brought his claw up,the tips of them just touching the underside of the man's chin."Afraid of me?"He wondered,staring into his terrified azure eyes. 

The stench of terror coming off the man was almost nauseating in its pungency."I-I think that's a fair assessment,yes,"the man stammered,trying to stand on his toes so the claws didn't dig into his skin,but there was only so far he could go. 

"So answer the question,dirtbag,"Logan said,glaring into his terrified eyes.Was it so much for one person to answer one goddamned question around here? 

The man with the real weird name of Belial glanced around for any help,but it was amazing how little was forthcoming."I ain't got all night,asshole,"Logan spat,using his clawless hand to shove the man even harder against the wall.He nearly yelped in fear,and seemed to get the message. 

"You know it was just business-if the stuff wasn't pure that wasn't my fault.Quality control was their deal,not mine." 

Logan still had no idea what was going on,but at least he could figure out the language."You sold some people tainted stuff?" 

"Wolfram and Hart,"Angel said,chuckling humorlessly.He seemed stronger,but was still leaning against the wall."They've had people eviscerated for looking at them funny,and you ripped them off?How stupid are you?" 

Belial glared at Angel angrily."Hey,Buck had a plan!We were-"He suddenly shut up,as if he'd admitted something he shouldn't have. 

"Who in the hell calls themselves Buck outside of porno movies?"Gunn exclaimed derisively.Cordy and Wesley stared at him,and he asked,"What?" 

Actually,the same thought had occurred to Logan,but he waited for the guy to answer. 

Surprisingly,it was Angel who did."Another Belial?You two weren't in league with a Berserker,were you?" 

Now Logan had no idea what planet Angel was on,but he saw the briefest flash of recognition in this Belial's eyes (what kind of name was Belial anyways?And he thought Buck was bad...) ,although the bastard tried to hide it."I don't know any Berserkers." 

"You're lying,"Logan snarled,because he knew he was.He had absolutely no idea what he was talking about,though. 

"Did you really think you could team up with a Berserker and be safe?"Angel asked incredulously. 

They're more trustworthy than Wolfram and Hart,"Belial shot back. 

Angel shrugged at that."Good point." 

"You thinking that guy we found shredded last night was Buck?"Gunn asked Angel,looking around them. 

"I'm wondering,"Angel replied,still considering it.Whatever it was,Logan was really hoping someone had a Cliff's Note version of whatever the hell was going on."I think you're deal has gone very bad, in more ways than one." 

"Shredded?"Belial said,looking between them."You're making that up." 

"I wish we were.But we found a Belial quite obviously ripped apart by a Berserker in an alley near West Hollywood yesterday.And if that was your friend,Wolverine isn't the only one out to kill you." 

The stench of fear rolling off Belial became almost unbearable as he visibly paled,and whispered, "Oh shit." 

"We'd better go,now,"Wesley said,and absolutely nobody disagreed.Logan had no idea what or who Berserker was,but everyone else seemed terrified by it.He was just happy to be leaving, frankly,and waited for Angel to limp into the elevator (why was he limping?) before tossing Belial in,and following into the crowded,smokey elevator. 

"Why does it smell like a bar?"Angel asked,leaning against the back wall. 

Cordy picked up a bottle of wine from the far corner and held it up for them to see."Symbolic blood." 

"Oh,"Angel replied,nodding as if that made sense. 

Logan figured the big dark red stain on the carpet was wine,then.It was a relief-but why did they punch a hole in the ceiling?"Can anyone explain to me what's going on?"He asked,throwing the question out to everyone but Belial as Wesley hit the appropriate button,and they all started their slow descent towards the ground floor. 

"Uh,well..."Wesley began,nervously adjusting his glasses and looking down at the carpet. 

"Here,you might need this,"Cordy said,holding the bottle of wine towards him. 

He took it with a grateful nod,and had a hearty swig.It was cheap,warm,and terrible,but hell,it was booze.And he was sure Cordy was right:he was going to need all the alcohol he could get his hands on. 

    11 

    None of what they told him actually made sense,but Logan had a sick feeling in his gut when the word 'brainwashing' came up.It made a certain amount of sense,although he had an uneasy, uncorroborated feeling that maybe all the work he had done for them wasn't completely involuntary.It was a deeply disturbing thought,but since he had no memories to back it up-and he was so mind fucked,obviously-he decided it didn't even bear thinking about. 

He didn't remember the bike crash at all,but if he had a head injury-however transient-that might explain that.Gunn said the bike damage could be easily fixed,which was a relief,but he didn't know how it didn't get mangled into a chunk of scrap.Frankly,if he took out a tree,Logan didn't know how either. 

And if Shrike wasn't already dead,he'd kill him.But since he was,there was some well deserved revenge down the toilet. 

He wasn't going to try and wrap his head around the 'spell' thing-that was just stupid.But if it made them happy to believe that...well,whatever.As long as it got them through the night,who was he to burst their bubble? 

As for the guy who got shredded,that made sense,in a way,although they were going on with that demon stuff again.Belial wasn't the guy's name,but what he supposedly was-a Belial demon,who apparently lied a lot.Which made them sound very human to him,but the guy sure smelled funny. His name was supposedly Ralph,which made Belial sound a hell of a lot better. 

Attempting to leave the elevator,Angel obviously needed help,and when Logan went to help him he shook his head and looked pointedly at Ralph's back.He wanted him free to deal with the asshole. 

Gunn ended up helping Angel out,letting him place an arm around his shoulders and use him as a human crutch as the group left the apartment,Logan shadowing Ralph so close he was making him twitch,which made Logan inexplicably happy. 

"So what is a Berserker,exactly?"Logan asked anyone who cared to answer him. 

"Oh god,they're these big ugly things that are half teeth,and look like cousins of those things in Alien,only smaller and not so droolly."Cordelia replied. 

"And they have eyes,"Angel added. 

"Okay,"Logan answered,wondering if they had been smoking something more potent than rosemary."You're not gonna tell me they're aliens,are you?" 

"No,they're just demons,"Wesley said,leading the way out. 

"Well,that makes so much more sense,"Logan drawled,shaking his head dismissively.He knew they generally meant well,but sometimes he'd swear they all needed heavy doses of thorazine,and an all expense paid vacation at the local nuthouse. 

Wesley turned back as he opened the door,scowling at him in disappointment."I know it's hard for you to accept,Logan,but after all you've seen and experienced,I don't understand how-" 

Suddenly a large,dark object swept past,ripping the glass door off its hinges and throwing it aside,taking Wesley with it.Then a large black thing blotted out all the light from the outside as it tore a much wider hole in the doorway. 

"Belial,"an inhuman voice boomed through the foyer,rattling the windows and sounding like rocks tumbling around in a clothes dryer."Did you really think you could cheat me too?!" 

"Get back,"Angel shouted,as Ralph attempted to run,but Logan grabbed him and held him fast. 

Logan had to admit he was impressed.The thing standing before them was nine feet of pure ugly,with blackish grey reptilian skin;long and gangly limbs that made its torso look small by comparison;and a huge,oversized,bald ovoid head that seemed like a violation of physics balanced on its stumpy neck.It had no lips to speak of,and a black slash of its mouth about as wide as its torso was long,and-as Cordy had claimed-chock full of serrated ivory teeth like three inch long knife blades.Its eyes were high over its huge mouth,two pupilless red orbs that looked like thumbprints sunken in dough. 

Not only did it not look the least bit human,but it didn't smell the least bit human-as weird as Ralph was,there was still a trace of a human scent beneath his general acrid reek (sort of like heavily diluted turpentine).This Berserker (?) smelled like burned rubber and bile,entrails and slagged metal,and something he couldn't even find a comparison for;it did sort of smell like death though,something rotted and charred and doused in sulphur. 

"Krvzet,"Ralph said-or at least that's what it sounded like he said-trying to sound as casual as possible,in spite of the waves of fear coming off him like the trade winds off an ocean of vinegar. "We'd never cheat you!This is just a misunderstanding!We can work it out like two adults." 

"Lies,"the thing growled.Logan could feel its voice rumble in his chest."I should have known better than to trust liars!" 

It swatted at him with one of its oversized hands,its palm as huge as a small car door and fingers just as long,tipped with ebony claws half again the length of the digits,but Logan threw Ralph out of the way as Krvzet burst into the lobby,taking half the wall with him. 

The big ugly monster turned its full attention towards Ralph on the other side of the foyer, scrambling to get to his feet as it swiveled its oversized,misshapen head in his direction."I should feed your intestines to my children,Belial." 

"Hey,we can work this out,"Ralph wheedled,trying to sneak away slowly."I have some quality stuff upstairs.What say I get it?" 

"What say I shit down your neck stump,thief?"The Berserker growled back,suddenly looking towards the rest of them."You and your friends." 

"We're not with him,"Cordelia immediately replied.But if the Berserker heard her,it didn't care. 

It took a menacing lurch towards them,its bare and large lizard like feet making small cracks in the terrazzo tile with each tooth rattling step,and Angel detached himself from Gunn and limped forward,his face changing almost instantly:brow pushing outward over immediately chatoyant yellow eyes,teeth protruding into a set of jagged fangs,and even his scent had changed slightly, becoming just slightly less human. 

"Lovely imagery,"Angel said to the big ugly."But I'd get out of here before I kill you." 

The thing made a noise like a volcano verging on eruption,and Logan guessed it was a laugh. "Vampire bug.You don't even have entrails worth keeping.But it is funny to watch you explode..." 

It suddenly snapped its head forward,like a crocodile surging towards its prey,but Angel had been expecting that and spun into a kick,hitting the Berserker square in its gaping mouth and sending about a dozen of its teeth skittering over the tile like angrily thrown dice.But Angel instantly collapsed,screaming in pain and grabbing his knee,as he had kicked the thing full force with his bad leg. 

The Berserker roared in pain,loud enough to make the glass shudder in its frames,and Gunn raced in to grab Angel,but before he did so he grabbed a Zippo lighter out of his pocket and seemed to adjust it.Logan had no idea what good that would do,but as he grabbed Angel under the shoulders, the Berserker's head snapped right towards him,and Gunn held up the lighter and flicked it on. 

"Have a little fire,Scarecrow,"he spat,as the flame that jumped up was nearly twice the size of the lighter itself,and the Berserker reared its head back with a roar as Cordy rushed in and helped Gunn pull Angel back towards the relative safety of the elevator. 

Logan retrieved Ralph,who was trying to sneak away,and threw him hard against the wall."Move and I'll cut your fucking legs off myself,"he growled,then turned back towards the Berserker,who was stalking towards the trio by the elevator.It seemed to be ignoring him entirely.Why?Because he was "just" human? 

"I'll gut you for that,human,"the Berserker threatened,still sounding like gravel down a drainpipe. 

"Hey,Godzilla,"Logan shouted,loud enough to almost shake the windows himself.Its ungainly head turned towards him,its tiny red eyes seemingly scanning him like he was nothing more than an insect."Nice claws."He held his arms down at his sides and popped his claws instantly,the familiar pain of the blades slicing through his flesh nearly unnoticeable in the almost ecstatic cleansing rage that now filled his body and mind."But mine are cooler." 

With that,he charged the two legged nightmare. 

The thing swung one of its grotesquely oversized hands at him,meaning to squash him like a bug,but Logan held his ground and simply lashed out with his hand.About a half foot away from impact,his claws sliced through its rubbery,thick flesh,through muscles like knots of metal mesh,and bone as dense as stone. 

The Berserker's left arm was severed near the wrist,and its hand went flying away,through the intact window to the right of the gaping hole where the door used to be. 

It roared in anger and pain as blood as black and thick as oil spewed from its severed arm,and it snapped its massive jaws forward,trying to cut him in half-which was a joke,because even as monstrous as he (?) was,Logan bet he couldn't bite through adamantium. 

Still,he didn't want to find out.He dodged it,and did the same thing Angel had done-spun into a kick and hit it square in the jaw.But Angel didn't have any metal him,so the impact was at least ten times as great:the Berserker lost all its teeth on the left side point of impact,and from the monstrous crack and sudden shift of its jaw,he had broken the mandible as well. 

The scream of the thing was deafening and disorienting,making Logan stagger back a few paces in pain,and that's when it grabbed him in its good hand,squeezing hard enough to make it impossible for him to breathe. 

But Logan was able to move his claws,cutting through and sometimes severing its fingers,and before it could smash him to the floor or bite him with the remainder of its teeth,he slashed through its beady little eyes with a claw. 

It dropped him instantly and screamed so loudly and in such a high pitch he was surprised all their eardrums didn't shatter.It staggered away blindly towards he remains of the door,blood still fountaining from its severed arm and making the tiles slick,when Angel shouted,"Back of the neck!" 

The meaning was clear enough.He jumped up on the thing's back and rammed his claw into to the base of its neck,ripping through bone before shoving himself off of it and jumping back down to the floor. 

It was just in time.It stood stock still on its strange,splay toed feet,seemingly wavering ever so slightly,then collapsed as if shot.It hit the tile so hard it not only cracked,but whatever glass was intact in the foyer instantly shattered,raining down on the blood slicked floor. 

"Now I know why the government guys wanted you back so bad,"Gunn said dryly. 

"Wesley,"Angel gasped in pain,as he forced himself to sit up. 


	7. Part 7

"Oh shit,"Cordelia exclaimed,as they had all forgotten about him for a moment. 

"Go check on him,"Angel told them.He hadn't need to,as Cordy and Gunn were already half way out the door,avoiding the body of the Berserker and its sebaceous blood as best they could. 

Out of the corner of his eye,he saw Ralph trying to sneak out,and he turned and fixed him with a caustic glare."Do you want me to gut you like a carp?"He wondered. 

Ralph,his eyes nearly as wide as saucers,slowly sank down to the floor and sat there quietly,arms wrapped around his bent knees.He was so terrified of him he couldn't even speak.Good. 

Logan walked over to Angel,and crouched down in front of him."I tried to kill you,didn't I?"He still couldn't remember it,but it was the only thing that explained not only the clawing,but how beaten up and incapacitated Angel was. 

Angel looked up at him somberly,trying to pretend he wasn't in any pain at all,and said,"If you really wanted to kill me,I wouldn't be here right now,would I?" 

Well,that was true.But in a way,that made it worse."I was toying with you?Torturing you for fun?" 

Angel gazed steadily back at him,but did not answer the question."It wasn't you." 

"Bullshit.It may have been more of me than I'd rather admit." 

"Wesley looks like shit,"Cordy said,returning to the ruin of the doorway."He may have a concussion and we may need to drop him off at a hospital,but Gunn has him conscious and talking.Although his vocabulary is mainly variations of 'ow'." 

"I can sympathize,"Angel replied wryly,and attempted to stand.Logan retracted his claws and grabbed his arm as he stood,helping Angel to his feet. 

"Get up Ralph.And any funny stuff-"Logan began,glaring at the man. 

"I know,I know,"he interrupted hastily."I'm not so dumb that I'll fuck with a guy who can beat the shit out of a Berserker." 

"But you were dumb enough to fuck with a Berserker,"Cordelia pointed out icily."When they were giving out brains,you were in the bathroom,weren't you?" 

Ralph frowned at her,but she remained unimpressed,and eyed him carefully as he went out the newly created doorway,shadowing him in case he tried anything anyways. 

As Logan helped Angel out the door,he asked him,"Do you know where I can find the guys who helped fuck with my head?" 

As it turned out,Angel knew exactly where they were. 

    12 

    He was expected. 

The uniformed security guards waved him on,tell him 'Mister Maslin' was waiting for him on the thirty third floor,and Logan took the elevator up,the smell of the place giving him an odd but undefined sense of deja vu. 

Once on the thirty third floor,he asked the first receptionist he encountered where Maslin's office was,and she pointed down a narrow beige corridor that seemed to go on for half the entire floor.But finally he found a wide oak door with the brass nameplate David Maslin on it,and went inside without knocking. 

The grey haired man sitting behind the oversized wooden desk looked up from some files as he came in,and gave him a patently insincere smile."Wolverine,how did it go?" 

"How do you think it went?"He snapped in reply.He glanced at the mirror behind the bar on the left side of the room-he still had some of Angel's blood on his clothes,which probably made for a  
good effect (and the guards downstairs didn't notice or care?)-but from what he could tell,there was nobody watching behind it. 

"Of course,"the man replied,his smile slightly more sincere.He started putting files away in his desk,unaware or unconcerned about Logan's continued approach.Yes,he was a well trained lap  
dog,wasn't he?He wasn't going to bite the hand that fed him. 

The light reflecting off the nearby skyscrapers was molten gold tinged with smog induced red,giving the room an eerie sort of faux sepiatone lighting,just adding to Logan's feeling of  
unreality about all of this.It seemed unbelievable that he could just be switched on,like he had some sort of lever inside his head that just the right person could manipulate if they knew where it was.But if he did,he needed to know where it was and how it could be broken. If it could be broken. 

The man pulled a box out of his desk,making Logan pause until he opened it."Cigar?"He offered, showing it was some kind of humidor. 

"Sure,why the hell not?"He might as well get something out of this guy before he made him curse the day he was born. 

Maslin took a cigar for himself as well,but didn't light it,just set it aside as he passed a stogie to Logan,who knew even before he lit it that it was quality stuff.Too quality,in fact."Is this  
Cuban?"He asked,taking his first puff.Oh yes,this was the good stuff,all right.It was times like this that it was a shame nicotine did nothing for him. 

Maslin gave him an avuncular smile."You know your cigars,Wolverine.I'm impressed." 

"I thought they were illegal." 

The man's grin became slightly more predatory and sly."Well,laws are often more malleable than you think." 

Logan nodded,firmly clamping the cigar in the corner of his mouth-he'd hate to ruin it now. "Yeah.Some guys can get away with anything,right?" 

Either Maslin didn't hear the implicit disgust in his tone,or just assumed it was some sort of grudging admiration,because his smile became broader.He sat back in his large leather chair, picking up his cigar and visibly searching his desk for a lighter."Absolutely.It's the way of the world." 

Logan didn't wait any longer-he unsheathed his claws and slammed his right hand on the desk,his claws cutting through the thick wood like paper.As Maslin looked up horror struck,his desk  
parting before him like the Red Sea,Logan grabbed the man by the collar of his Armani suit and hauled him to his feet,kicking his chair out from under him.The chair hit the window hard and  
shattered it,falling out into the cool,smoggy smelling morning air. 

"Yeah,it is the way of the world,"Logan agreed dryly,careful to keep from losing his cigar.Maslin dangled like a rag doll in his grip,clearly terrified at the thought of moving,his unnaturally taut skin paling to the color of day old oatmeal."Just like I'm the superior human here,and you're not,right?" 

Maslin didn't realize he had walked him over to the edge of the window until the breeze hit him,and then he looked over his shoulder,and Logan smelled the spike of panic in his fear,vinegar with a hint of napalm."Bellerophon,"he blurted out,his eyes wide and virtually colorless in his terror. 

"And what is that supposed to mean?"Logan growled."Is that some kind of code word?A trigger? Hate to tell ya this bub,but it ain't going to save your bacon today."He pushed him out until he  
was dangling at the lip of the shattered window frame,and the man grabbed Logan's arms hard,trying to hang onto him. 

"Look,they just hired us,we didn't do this to you!"The man shouted,hysterical,almost in tears. 

"Who did?"He asked."I want names." 

"They didn't give names-that's not the nature of the transaction!"He was wheedling now,pleading- he knew Logan had no qualms about dropping him,and was just spewing the truth in hopes of saving his own ass.That was what Logan had been counting on. At the end of the day,you could never trust a lawyer. 

"What is the nature of the transaction?"He snarled,deliberately loosening his grip just a little,enough to freak him out that much more. 

"They hired us to help retrieve you.They said an agent had already put things in motion.We were just to make sure that you came back to them.In exchange,you got to do a job for us.That's all,I swear!" 

"An agent?"Shrike probably.That traitorous bastard.He wished he could dig him up and kill him again."What did this agent do?Did they tell you?" 

There was a slight but significant pause before he answered."No." 

Logan shook him,letting him feel nothing but open air beneath his feet."Try again." 

"They said it was some kind of telepathic implantation,"he squealed,his voice going up an octave."And maybe some new type of drug,but they didn't know if he delivered it to you or  
not!Please,put me down!" 

That made sense.And,if Shrike had slipped him the drug in some fashion,he could have erased his memory of it.Cute.But there was still something that didn't make a whole lot of sense."And the  
job you had for me was just getting rid of some paltry,two timing drug dealer?Ain't that a waste of my talent?" 

"We wanted you to get the Berserker after him,"he explained,tears forming in his eyes."We knew he was hunting him,and that he'd come after us next if we didn't stop him,but you'd never done  
non humans before.Please don't kill me.I was just doing my job." 

"Doing your job,"he repeated,the words feeling flat and dead in his mouth.So they wanted him to kill the Berserker,not really Ralph.They must have figured Ralph would already be dead by the time he got there. 

Logan suddenly wasn't angry anymore;he was simply disgusted and unbelievably weary.Killing this spineless wonder would be an afterthought,and probably not in the least bit satisfying. 

"If I ever see you,or any government/Wolfram and Hart motherfuckers again,I will be the last thing any of you will ever see.Got it?" 

Maslin nodded eagerly,still stinking of fear,nearly passing out from terror and a sudden glimpse of hope."Yes,yes! You'll never hear from us again." 

Of course Logan didn't believe that,but they would probably stay away from him for now,and that's all he wanted."No,I won't,"Logan agreed,and then smashed his forehead into Maslin's. 

The man's eyes instantly rolled back into his head,and he went as limp as an empty suit as Logan slung him around and tossed him back inside,onto the floor of his office,where he laid face down and still as a drowned swimmer washed up on shore. 

Logan started to leave,but stopped and went back to sift through the ruin of Maslin's desk.He found the humidor,grabbed a handful of cigars,and stuffed them in his pocket as he finally headed out the door,walking out of Wolfram and Hart as easily as he strolled in. 

    EPILOGUE 

    Angel finally found Logan on a balcony on the twelfth floor of the Hyperion,smoking an expensive cigar and watching traffic pass by on the streets below as night slowly fell over the city.Angel could now walk without limping-well,much-and the claw wounds had all but healed,except his stomach still hurt a bit,and the wounds had healed save for a few small scars he assumed would be gone completely in another day or so. 

He'd been sleeping a lot (if twenty two hours straight counted as a lot),but Wes had filled him in on what had happened,being out of the hospital after being held for observation and released (he had a minor concussion,several bruises and glass cuts,but no more,thankfully).Ralph had run off-of course-and no one knew where he was,but The Host seemed to indicate he was in Mexico,and possibly still heading South.His crystals had been destroyed by Angel,Cordy,and Gunn,but only the ones they had found in his apartment.It was possible he had others stashed away,and was using them to finance his trip to elsewhere. 

Gunn had gone back to Holt Towers with his gang to dispose of the Berserker body shortly afterwards,when Angel had gone home to pass out,only to find the body gone.The fact that the scene had been cleaned up lead Gunn to guess logically that Wolfram and Hart had beat them to the scene. 

As for Logan,he was...well,Logan.Stoic and completely keeping to himself,he wandered off to Wolfram and Hart by himself afterwards,even though he was told he should never go there alone,yet came back soon after no worse for wear and smoking a cigar.He told Cordy he'd just "Taken care of a few things",and she had been scanning the papers for mentions of a law office massacre ever since. 

Angel knew that he probably hadn't killed anyone-or,at least many-because of his attitude lately:he seemed almost melancholic,which was weird for him.Logan seemed to have two apparent moods-mildly irritated and completely pissed off.That worried Cordy too,as she was afraid maybe the brainwashing 'stuff' hadn't completely worn off,or maybe Wolfram and Hart had done something else to him.But Angel suspected he knew what the problem was. 

Logan didn't turn or say anything as Angel crossed the barren hotel room (this was one of the ones emptied of most its contents after the bellboy went on a shooting spree in the '70's,the final violent act that had shut the hotel down for good-he suspected morbid curiousity seekers cleared out the rest of the crime scenes),but when he was within five feet of the open balcony door,Logan said,without turning around,"What do you want?" 

Angel jumped slightly,startled by the voice,although not surprised.He was trying to be as stealthy as possible,but figured Logan would catch on to him.If paranoia could be considered a sixth sense,then Logan had the keenest senses in the world. 

Angel hobbled onto the balcony,no longer bothering with stealth,and leaned on the edge,looking down at the brightly lit stream of traffic below, an entire arm's length away from Logan.There was something in the hunch of his shoulders and the stiffness of his back that suggested anyone who got too close to him would get a fist in the face."Nice view,"Angel said,trying to be conversational."When I first moved in I killed time checking out the views from all the floors and rooms;this is one of the better ones.If you want a good view of downtown-" 

"Cut the crap,Angel.What is it?"He interrupted,seemingly staring down at the street,but Angel knew he wasn't actually looking at anything at all.Or at least nothing external. 

Logan really wasn't one for small talk,was he?Good,because Angel knew he absolutely sucked at it."Wesley told me Icara called you this afternoon." 

Logan simply nodded,making a sort of interrogatory grunt that seemed to say "What of it" more clearly than words. 

Angel plowed on,and wondered if he was ever this terse."Are you going to tell us what happened to her,or do you want me to start guessing?Because,I warn you,I have a list." 

He knew the idea of listening to him jabber would drive Logan crazy,and from the evil sidelong glance he gave him (his eyes were bluish green again),Angel knew his ploy had either worked,or was about to earn him a punch or Logan stalking off.Logan seemed to chew on the end of his cigar,shifting it more firmly to the corner of his mouth,before muttering (nearly growling),"It was me,wasn't it?All my fault,just like I figured." 

"I don't believe that." 

"No skin off my nose if you do or you don't,"he shot back resentfully,but Angel caught it.Beneath all the anger and irritation at being bothered,Logan was so full of self-loathing he didn't seem to know what to do with himself.Angel empathized,because he himself had been there lots of times. 

"Is that what she told you?"He wondered.He was willing to bet his paycheck-well,if he had one-that she had not. 

For a moment,Logan didn't say anything.He simply flicked an ash off his cigar,letting it fall over the balcony and dissolve in the wind,and took a drag off the stogie before he muttered,"She couldn't take it.She said she hit a 'floodgate',and the memories overwhelmed her;they were too painful,and she couldn't take them all at once.It put her into psychic shock or something." 

Angel wished he was surprised,but again he wasn't."That isn't your fault and you know it." 

"She said she couldn't remember details,and maybe she didn't want to remember,and she thought maybe I might want to let it go too." 

Angel didn't know what to say,so he remained silent,listening to the occasionl horn honks and curses from angry drivers below,and two cars with stereos loud enough to kill Auralic demons dueling with thumping bass loud enough to feel even up here. 

After a long moment of arguable silence,Logan,still staring down at the cars,said,"I wasn't sure I wanted to remember when I started having the dreams,you know.That,and when I found out I had claws." 

"You didn't know right away?" 

He shook his head,and briefly glanced at Angel,but couldn't keep eye contact and tell the story at the same time."For about a week or two...well,maybe six...I was just wandering around in a fog.I had been completely fucked over;I had just the vaguest idea who I was,and an unshakeable feeling that I had to run,because if they-a big,mythic 'they'-caught up with me...I don't know.They'd do somethin' bad to me,but I had no idea what,'cept death probably would have been kinder.And,since I had no idea what was going on,or who I was,of course I drank a lot."He scoffed humorlessly at his own joke."Alcohol doesn't even effect me-nicotine doesn't either.They're both toxins,and I have an immunity to them.But I keep hopin' there'll be a placebo effect,that maybe I can fool myself into thinking I'm in a stupor for a minute or two. 

"So I was in a seedy bar in a Canadian mining town-a bad place to be really,as it was really rural and didn't take kindly to strangers,but nothing scared me,technically-just 'they',whoever they were.So this drunk was spoiling for a fight and decided he didn't like my face,so him and a bunch of his buddies jumped me in the parking lot.I made short work of 'em,of course-I always knew I could fight;how and why I had no idea-but the guy really pissed me off,and I knew if I tensed these muscles in my arm I could really hurt him,so I did..." 

For a long minute,Logan said nothing,just chewed over the bitter memory-one of the few he could claim as his own right now."I don't know who was freaked out more when those three metal claws erupted out of my fist.It hurt too,but I was too shocked to really notice that then.I managed not to skewer him,but only by about a half inch.He and his conscious buddies ran off,but I no longer cared about 'em,as much as part of me wanted to kill them all.I just kept staring at the freaky thing that had come out of my hand.I did it with my other hand,just to see what would happen,and I don't know why I was freaked to find I had a matching set.I had always known I wasn't like other people-I healed real fast,seemed to smell and hear stuff they didn't-but I had no idea...I was a complete and total freak,not until that moment.The more I thought about it,the more I realized I must have been altered to be their weapon...but I never wanted to admit that to myself.It was just too..." 

He trailed off helplessly,shaking his head and tossing the stub of the cigar off the balcony,onto the street below,apparently aiming for one of the cars with a sonic boom volume stereo.Logan hit it too;the smoldering butt slipped right in the open sunroof. 

"Cold?Evil?"Angel suggested,trying to help. 

"No-I already knew people were pretty evil,especially when they put their mind to it.It was just...cruel and unusual punishment,I guess.I was never a person to them;I was a thing.The experiment of a lifetime.I guess then I had to know who they were so I could destroy them for that.But I knew I might not like what I remembered along with them."He paused,then cursed under his breath."I had to have a life before I became their fucking laboratory chew toy.Why can't I ever remember any of that?" 

"I don't know,"Angel said honestly,although he wondered if some of the torture he had endured helped wipe it away.Rather than try and recall all that pain,his own mind had helped block some of the more unpleasant things out. 

"Maybe I never had a life,"Logan speculated."Maybe I'm just some sort of genetic experiment thing-" 

"You know that's not true,"Angel interjected,cutting him off. 

"No I don't,"Logan countered,and out of the corner of his eye,he saw Logan peer at him with a curious intensity."But you know,don't you?What aren't you telling me?" 

Angel wasn't sure he should,but he told him about his memory of seeing a man plowed down in Vancouver-a man who looked a lot like him-suddenly getting up and walking off without a scratch.He left out the part about hunting for rats,though,as Logan didn't need to know that. 

Logan was shocked into silence,but not for long."You recognized me and you never told me?" 

"I didn't remember it,Logan.It just occured to me the other morning." 

"And this was when?" 

"Nineteen sixty nine-fall,I think.Back then,the days kind of blurred into one another." 

"How old did I look?I mean...what was my age?Could you tell?" 

Angel didn't want to tell him,but he had to be honest."You looked exactly the same age as you do now." 

Logan stared at him for a moment,and behind his relatively emotionless visage,he thought he saw some sense of hope-that he was almost normal?That his life span may actually be finite,more or less?-crash behind his eyes. 

"Shit,"he cursed beneath his breath as he turned away,walking over to the other side of the balcony,his back to Angel. 

Angel wanted to say something even vaguely encouraging,but found himself again at a loss for words.He knew some people longed for immortality,but they all seemed unaware of the ultimate price you had to pay to get it. 

"How old do you think I am?"Logan finally asked,sounding resigned. 

"I don't know."Angel always felt that something about Logan seemed old,but he just chalked that up to all the massive shit he had been through;that could age you a hell of a lot faster than time. 

"Cordy said you were about two hundred and fifty years old.Is that right?" 

Angel shrugged."She didn't need to round up,but...yeah,take a couple of years." 

"Could I be as old as you?" 

Logan was so shocked by his own revelations that he didn't bother to disbelieve Angel's age.Angel found that a little unsettling,as he didn't really know Logan could be stunned."I don't know.It's possible.But you could be a hell of a lot younger." 

"Or a hell of a lot older,"he countered,gripping the edge of the balcony so hard Angel expected it to break beneath his hands.But Logan got a hold of himself and eased his grip before there was any significant damage."Vancouver,huh?Wraith had gone there before he fled to the States. Maybe there's something there I missed." 

"Maybe,"Angel agreed,happy to get off the painful topic of age.But after thinking about it a moment,he realized,"You're leaving tonight,aren't you?" 

Logan turned around to face him,crossing his arms over his chest."I gotta go.I can't stay here,although it's startin' to turn into "Escape From L.A." - every time I try and leave,something stops me." 

"It can be a quagmire.But you have discovered some things about yourself here." 

"Yeah,but nothing really helpful.Except apparently I was a brainwashed killing machine for a while,and monsters do exist,although I can beat their pansy asses pretty easily." 

Angel smiled at that,glad he was still trying to keep a sense of humor about it all."You're a tough guy.That's what you do." 

He grunted an acknowledgement."Yeah,well,it kills the time." 

Angel nodded knowingly."If I say goodbye,you're going to hit me,aren't you?" 

He shrugged."I might." 

"Then I won't.But you're always welcome here,you know.And,on the off chance you ever need help,as unlikely as that is,you know where we are."Angel only added the unlikely part for Logan.Logan did need help sometimes,but he refused to admit it.Considering his wonderful experiences with people,though,he couldn't begrudge his tendancies towards misanthropism. 

Logan snorted derisively,shrugging it off."What is it with people wanting me to join their little groups anyways?I don't get it." 

"Well,it's your charming personality.You're irresistable."Angel deadpanned. 

Logan stared at him for a moment,then burst out laughing.Angel joined him,distantly aware that he'd miss him being around.Sure,he was a grumpy,unpredictable pain in the ass,but strangely Angel couldn't help but think of him as a peer-one of the few people who could really understand what he'd been through.Although,to be fair,what happened to Logan was much worse,and not self-inflicted by any meaning of the term.Also,it was nice to know,no matter how bad things got,at least Logan was watching their backs.Although he had been being sarcastic earlier,Logan really could kick just about anything's ass,and he knew,as much as he disparaged teamwork,he would always look out for Cordy,Wes,and Gunn.And even him too,although Angel would argue he didn't need it.Unless Logan was the one kicking his ass. 

"No offense,Angel,but I hope I never see you again,"Logan said,almost jovially. 

"None taken,"Angel replied,and remained looking over the balcony at the city as Logan walked off,through the empty room. 

But as he heard him open the door,Angel added,"See you around,Logan." 

Logan snorted humorously,but left without looking back. 

    THE END 


End file.
